


Wonderland

by Kafria



Category: 2009 - Fandom, Alice - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kafria/pseuds/Kafria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of the mini series, adding other PoV and expanding on subplots hinted at, but not developed within the series itself</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: First Meetings

**A/N: This story will follow the miniseries with a few additional scenes. It is intended to be the novel the series could have been adapted from, for my own pleasure. It is my first fan fiction and the first time I have written anything of length since I finished school (over a decade ago). All comments gratefully recieved.**

 **Standard discaimer: I own nothing, story or characters.  
**

First meetings.

 _He'd walked carefully into the studio, scanning the room and trying to pick her out from the description he had been given. He'd been surprised by the tremor of nervousness as he was used to getting what he wanted without any real effort, no one denied him! The petite blond on reception had smiled brightly and directed him to the changing rooms, but was too busy gossiping into the phone, red nails tapping lightly on the desk, to speak to him. Half a dozen others were speedily stripping off street clothes, a number in suits similar to the one he was wearing. They greeted those they recognised in that awkward, half friendly way of those who see each other regularly, but know little of each other's lives. The chap closest gave Jack a half smile, which he took as an invitation to ask "So what's the instructor, like?"_

" _Young!" his companion said, making Jack feel uncomfortable with his leering expression. A couple of the others rolled their eyes and walked away. Jack took the chance to escape and followed them into the long room._

 _At the far end of the mats, talking quietly to a couple of early arrivals was Alice. She wore her long dark hair tied back in a school girl pony tail and her white robes clothed a powerful, athletic body._

 _He'd had little chance to talk to her beyond being told where to line up and who to partner, so had lingered as others said their goodbyes and left to change once the class was over. She'd wandered over before asking mildly "Still with us?"_

" _Yes, just catching my breath so I can introduce myself. I'm Jack", he offered her his hand._

" _Alice", she gripped his hand lightly, before lifting her hand to smooth an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear. "You're enthusiastic enough and plenty of energy. You need to work on your technique though! It'll help you stay fresh."_

 _She looked him in the eye, sizing up his response to her assessment. He smiled to show he wasn't fazed by her judgement of his ability, it gave him just the opening he needed. "What do you suggest?"_

" _Well to start with I have a midweek class; we could work on your throws then. You can book on your way out."_

 _Jack noticed a new group of people assembling on the mats "Your next class?"_

" _No I'm done for the day, part time only, so I can go grab some lunch." she replied and turned to leave. Jack fell into step beside her,_

" _Lunch, mm I'm famished. I don't suppose you know a good deli nearby that I could pick something up at?" He waited, Alice stopped and looked at him and for a moment he thought he'd not been quite casual enough. Had he pushed too hard? The opportunity had been too good to pass up. After a long moment the corner of her mouth tweaked up in a half smile and she gave a little nod of her head._

" _I'm going past one on my way home, meet me here when you're changed" and with that she strode into the changing room. Jack gave a satisfied smile before doing the same._


	2. RUN

RUN

Jack tensed as he read the message on his sleek mobile phone. His time was up!

"What's up?" He turned to face the girl sat at the dining table behind him. Piercing brown eyes regarded him with mild concern. Alice! The key to everything and now he was out of time. Jack tried to think, he couldn't let all the months of planning come to nothing. Caterpillar trusted him to bring her back.

Jack was dashing and self-confident, with charm by the bucket load. He didn't need it to get what he wanted in life, his position and power made sure he rarely had to do without anything he desired, but it helped grease the wheels. In fact, it was the reason he was stood here now. He felt a pang of remorse, but swiftly pushed it away. He wanted Alice to stay with him once this was all over, it didn't matter that they hadn't met by chance as she believed.

"Nothing!" Jack kept smiling, unwilling to break the spell of a beautiful evening. He'd been uncharacteristically nervous this evening before meeting Alice's mother, not just for the plan, but also for himself. It was important to him that she liked him too. Alice was waiting for him to continue. He needed more time to set this up, but now time was a luxury he didn't have. "How would you like to meet my family" he asked.

"Oh, are they coming to town?" she asked, her mind still on the text he'd received.

"No, we'd have to go there."

Alice started slightly; as if she was surprised he wanted to make a special trip. She considered for a minute before answering. "Okay, When?"

'Now!' thought Jack, instead he answered, "How about tonight?" in the same conversational tone. It was a bit out of the blue, but they had spent a lot of time together over the last six weeks. Jack was sure she would agree with a little persuasion.

"Are you Crazy?" Alice demanded as her face tensed, her eyes becoming wider, seeming a deeper brown. She stood, shifting her weight slightly from foot to foot as she observed him. She wasn't happy with the suggestion.

"It'll be an adventure. Some things are more exciting on the spur of the moment, don't you think?" Jack tried, unwilling to believe that she would simply dismiss the idea. She meant a lot to him and he was sure his feelings were returned. She teased that he shared little about himself; this was her chance to find out.

"No. Not when they involve meeting your parents. Jack, I would have to get myself together…." As he realised she was nervous, shy even, he rushed to reassure her.

"Alice, you're perfect as you are and we could be back by…Monday morning." And she did look perfect this evening, her hair was down, except for the front sections, which she wore drawn up off her face and held with two unobtrusive grips. Her blue dress fitted snugly in all the right places and was saved from being too prim by the bright red tights and black boots she had teamed it with.

Alice hadn't finished objecting yet, "But I know nothing about them. What if they don't approve of me?"

Jack paused, contemplating what to say next when he had a flash of inspiration, the ring, he had it with him! He reached into his jacket and pulled out the small wooden case, as he approached, he told her "They'll … uh…They'll approve of you when they see you with this." He stumbled over the words as a vision of Alice wearing his ring flashed before his eyes, bringing a lump to his throat. Standing behind her, he encircled her with his arms as he showed her, "It's got a hidden catch." With his hand over hers he touched the notch in the top and twisted the base clockwise, hearing the spring release, before he pulled off the top and revealed the ornate gold ring. Scrolls from the band flanked the large green stone that was its centrepiece. Jack released Alice's hand and the box, lifting a piece of her hair to his mouth as she stared, mesmerised, at the ring.

"Wow, it looks really old." Unconsciously Alice reached out a hand to touch the ring, enchanted by its beauty.

"It's been in my family a very long time." Jack told her, feeling a rush of pride as he thought of having Alice by his side.

His words snapped Alice out of her reverie. "Are you giving me this?" she demanded to know. Unwilling to declare himself till she knew the truth Jack ignored the question.

"Would you like to try it on?"

But she wasn't to be deflected, "Jack, a ring means something. This is too fast." The swift stab of rejection pierced his sanguine assurance that she would be leaving with him tonight. He gazed at her silently, without knowing what to say, smarting at her refusal. "No, it's way too fast," she declared when he remained silent. Her determined expression told him that it would be pointless to argue, so he tried a different tack, after all they needed her.

"Okay. I'm sorry I got the wrong idea, maybe after you've seen my home, met my friends."

"No, I can't come with you, Jack. Not tonight." She told him with firmly, "Maybe we should just take it easy for a while. See how we feel in a few days and…" As the realisation that he had failed hit him Jack made one last attempt.

"Alice, I…", but she wasn't listening.

"Just…give me some time." Alice walked over and opened the door, signalling the conversation was over. Jack followed slowly, as he thought about his options. He'd been discovered; he needed to get the ring safe until he could shake off the suits. As he reached the door he took a long look at Alice, who refused to meet his eye, before leaning over to give her a hug. As he pulled away from Alice's stiff frame he dropped the box containing the ring into her pocket. "Goodbye Jack." she said, closing the door.

He hesitated there for a few minutes, gathering his wits, before setting off warily into the darkened streets.


	3. Through the Looking Glass

Back in the apartment Alice stood staring at the closed door thinking hard. She sighed, trying to expel all of her tension with that one breath. She shook her head slowly as she turned and ambled across the room. As she reached the table she ran her fingers along the wood and took another steadying breath before lifting the glasses off the table and carrying them down the hall to the kitchen. In the small compact room she rinsed the glasses, in the industrial stainless steel sink, before placing them in the dishwasher. Her thoughts continued to ponder the recent events.

Where had that come from all of a sudden? Jack was charming and polite, the perfect gentleman. His short fair hair was just long enough to fall into eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He'd become a regular at her classes before joining her on a number of occasions to grab lunch or a coffee. He made her feel safe and cared for, she knew she could trust him and, until today, he hadn't shown any sign of being unreliable or unpredictable.

Alice appreciated she was careful, even guarded with men. She also understood many men resented her boundaries, having suffered all the predictable insults through high school when she rebuffed the often clumsy advances of the boys around her. They didn't see beyond their rejection to recognise the sadness that prompted her to behave that way. She kept her distance from girlfriends too; if no one got too close then she couldn't get hurt when they let her down.

She'd learnt how much pain caring could cause very early, the night her father left and never came home. At first they had assumed it must be an accident of some sort, but over the days and weeks, with no sign, it became clear he had just gone. Alice waited, knowing he wouldn't miss her birthday and when the phone rang that morning she had picked it up. She was crushed when, instead of "Hello Jellybean" in his deep, musical voice, she had heard her aunt wishing her happy birthday. Yet she didn't give up hope, not until many birthdays, Christmases and endless other holidays had past and she stopped waiting. It hurt too much! Instead she got angry and that fire gave her the determination to find him and have some answers at long last.

But Jack was meant to be different, dependable, someone who she could trust, given time. And then he went and proved her wrong by acting like an impetuous fool. What had he been thinking? They had spent a lot of time together in the last few weeks and it was clear they both liked each other. His presence at the apartment tonight was testament to the fact she planned for a long future together, she didn't introduce just anyone to her mother. Mother! What was she going to think?

Alice picked at the leftovers before sighing once more. She strolled back to the living room, her boots clunking on the hardwood floors and sank wearily into the faded couch. She lay back against the arm, lifting her feet off the floor and closing her eyes, trying to shut the conversation out of her mind. It wasn't to be.

"Alice…Honey?" Her mother's inquisitive voice preceded her, "Where's Jack?"

"I asked him to leave." Alice wished this would be enough, but experience told her it wouldn't.

"I told you, kiss of death. Why this time?" her mother probed. Alice knew from experience it was best to get this over with and described Jacks suggestion and offering. As she suspected this wasn't enough to end the conversation.

"So after weighing up all the unlikely pros with all the possible cons you just kicked him out!" her mother demanded to know.

"I don't need a lecture." Alice retorted, shaking her head.

Her mother rose from the chair she had occupied and perched on the table in front of her. "Alice, honey, just because Daddy left doesn't mean they all will" she soothed quietly, but Alice didn't want to talk about her father on top of everything else.

As she made to rise from the couch Alice felt a hard shape in her pocket. Confused, she pulled it out; the ring case. Alice felt a jolt of anger, how could he leave it, trick her into taking it? There was no way she was going to let him get away with this. She yanked open the door and rushed out without giving her mother chance to react.

Alice paused as she reached the street, and shivered. It was the sort of spring night you get when the temperature drops and the moisture invades the air. She couldn't see Jack as she looked up and down the street and she wasn't sure which direction he was headed. As she passed the end of the building she heard a grunt and automatically turned towards it. Facing her was the long narrow alley alongside the building. There were fire escapes and side doors leading onto it and rubbish piled up waiting to be collected. Sprinting down the alley towards the noise Alice peered ahead trying to find the source of the sound. She almost missed them, but as she passed a side alley her eye was caught by a couple of men by a white van with someone struggling between them. She recognised Jack's short blond hair and blue shirt and ran towards the trio, yelling as she did.

As Alice advanced, Jack was caught by a blow to the head and went limp. His captors hurriedly threw him in the back of the van and raced to the front before speeding off, tyres screeching. Alice tried to follow through the alleys, but lost them quickly. Just as she slowed to a stop, knowing it was too late, she was surprised by a stranger who stepped from the shadows. She retreated warily as he slunk towards her.

The newcomer, his calculating grey eyes on a level with hers, blocked her way forward as he declared, "I'm afraid he's gone". Alice studied him in return, noted his grey suit, a small pin badge of a white rabbit on his lapel, and how his long white hair was banded together in two bunches. He carried a cane and put Alice in mind of the upper class dandies you saw in old films, except his eyes were callous.

"Who are you?" She asked him, not really expecting a reply. He seemed accustomed to asking questions, not answering them, and judging by his confidence he was in the habit of being obeyed.

"A friend of Jacks. I'm here to help him."

A shiver of fear iced down Alice's back. This man was a friend to no one. Anxiety for Jack's safety flooded her mind, all trace of anger about the ring forgotten. The only thought in her head was how to help him and to be of any assistance she first needed to know what kind of trouble he was in. "Then why didn't you? Who are those Guys?" she demanded, hoping he didn't hear the catch in her throat. She drew in a steadying breath, holding his gaze as he began to advance towards her.

"Jack took something that didn't belong to him. We need it back," he responded. Although he spoke softly, there was no mistaking the menace behind the words. He stepped towards Alice once more.

Intimidated, she retreated, as her thoughts flew to the ring still clutched in her hand. She couldn't let on she had it. "What are you talking about?" she retorted. Her mind spun as she tried to make sense of this turn of events. Jack had told her the ring was a family heirloom; she couldn't believe he would have stolen it. She needed to get it safe. Keeping her hands behind her back she carefully felt for the hidden catch.

"The ring, Alice," he insisted softly, holding out a hand to take it from her.

"How do you know my name?" she asked reflexively, stunned that he knew who she was. What else did he know? She mentally shook herself, no time for that now, "Where have you taken Jack?"

"He's quite safe," he replied, quite unperturbed by her demands and evasions. His assurance was beginning to irritate her.

"Then bring him back and let him tell me himself," she snapped, as she finally got the ring out of the case and began to replace the lid.

"I'm afraid he's got to go back with me to face charges" he consoled her. Alice started; this was more serious than she thought. Her fingers stiffened and the lid of the case scrapped as she replaced it.

The squeak echoed around the silent alley and her captors eyes widened as he realised what it was. "So you do have it" he gloated as he snatched for her hidden hands.

Instinct from the years of training leapt to her defence as she dodged to the side, sending her attacker crashing into the wall behind. As he turned, she launched herself at him, grappling with his cane, which he used in an impressive counterattack. Her hands reached for the cane, but her grip was hampered by the case secreted in her hand. With surprising strength he knocked her to the floor and the ring bounced out of her grasp and down the alley. The movement caught her attacker's eye and, taking advantage of her prone position, he raced forward, stooping to retrieve the case before fleeing further into the back streets.

Alice sprang after him shouting as she went. "No!"

"Where have you taken Jack?"

"Wait!"

He took no notice and despite his years he seemed to extend his lead. She followed through twists and turns before he took a flight of stairs into a partially built apartment block. She lost sight of him as he raced around a corner at the top and she redoubled her efforts to catch up. She tore round the corner only to come face to face with a large mirror. She was going too fast to prevent herself colliding with it and rushed to pull her arms up to protect her face, but the painful blow never came and Alice found herself falling.


	4. White Rabbit

In the gloomy corridor Agent White waited, the dank smell coming from the pool of water which lay ankle deep around him. Occasional flashes of illumination came from the live cables hanging frayed and torn from the dangling light fittings around him. The grey corridor was once a hive of activity, with offices reverberating to the soft hum of countless conversations and constant whirring of machines. Doors in constant motion as busy employees transported information and documents to their destinations. Now nature was staking a claim, salvaging what it could from the ravages of man amid the electrical jungle of the lights. On the floor piles of rotting paper provided the soil for new grass islands, small refuges from the encroaching lakes and ponds.

Around the corner was the landing harbour from where the warning thump had stopped him in his tracks. He was the last one through; there should be no one else. There was only one logical arrival, an unnecessary problem. He stood immobile, ears straining for the telling sounds of his quarry. He held his breath and willed his heart to quiet, frozen in place.

There it was! The dratted oyster had followed him down the rabbit hole. Well she was on his patch now, time for a lesson in the price of interfering. He delayed for a moment or two, listening to her movements as she got her bearings and called out. Then, once he was sure she would follow, he moved from his sanctuary, into her line of sight and down the corridor, making for the exit. He scurried and splashed, leaving an audible trail, ensuring to keep ahead and planning as he went. She should have left well enough alone, it was none of her business. Well she could join the other oysters. That would tie up the loose ends nicely!

As he burst from the shadowy building he squinted in the harsh glow of the pre-dawn light. The fumes that still surrounded the city added to the feeling of dry, chemical heat, the vast grey tower blocks seemingly monochrome in the flat light. Poor vegetation, stunted and colourless, sprouted wherever it could find a foothold, the thin soil only supporting the hardiest of species. As his eyes acclimatised he sped down the narrow ledge to his right and caught up with his suits, the knave they had accosted still unconscious between them. He harried them on, glancing around to ensure there was no one else around to interfere. Glimpsing a blue shadow skirting around the building he smirked. So far so good, her determination was triumphing over caution.

Crossing a narrow bridge between ledges he glanced around once more, before rushing up the steps and through the door of his headquarters. "Get him to the landing dock. And lock him down, we can't have him getting away again" he instructed the suits. Turning to two more he added, "Clear the corridor, we have an extra treat for the casino. One more oyster,"

He strode to a side room, as the corridor cleared, thinking of the best way to trap his prey. She was inquisitive this one, better to let her put herself in danger than confront her again. As he reached his office he paused, issued another set of instructions then continued inside to check on the transport for the captive. The sooner he was delivered the sooner this whole mess would be over and he could get back to business as usual. He took the ring case out of his pocket and placed it carefully in the centre of his desk.

-oOo-

Alice dashed down the corridor, determined not to lose her only link to Jack, she wasn't sure where she was or quite how she had got here. Finding Jack or his captors might be her only way home.

Bursting out of the building she slammed on the brakes as she found herself teetering on the brink of a huge drop. She scuttled back, till her back was securely against the wall and tried to make sense of what she could see. She was standing next to an Edwardian style office block, built with grey stone blocks, with another facing it across the street. Except there was no street, just a fall to the ground of several hundred stories, while above her the buildings reached as high again. The side walk she stood on was simply a grass covered ledge and as she looked at the one across the street she began to wonder what was keeping it up.

Nervously, she swallowed her doubts, focusing on Jack. She needed to find him and help him. As she looked up the street for her quarry she spotted him, halfway across a bridge over the non-existent street, hurrying the two men who were dragging Jack between them. As she examined Jack to see if he was okay the party hastened up the steps of the building and straight inside. After a quick look around, Alice sped across after them, careful to keep to the middle of the bridge. She didn't want to fall.

The doors of the building were of frosted glass with a crest containing a white rabbit on, the same as the lapel badge she had noticed in the alley. Reluctant to go straight in Alice moved to the side windows to peer in. This building seemed as derelict as the one she had just left, with panes of glass broken and dirty, hiding whatever was inside. As Alice considered her options a motorised whirr caught her ears.

Turning, Alice first looked to the street, then, realising there could be nothing there, she looked up to find the strangest sight. A flying machine, shaped like a beetle, was skimming along the edge of the buildings with a search light underneath. Moving back under the door canopy she followed its progress towards her, trying to get a better look at it. What was it? How could it fly? As she pondered these questions the light brushed over her arm and Alice jumped further back into the shade as she felt it burning. To her horror her skin was scorching, yet instead of blistering red, it was turning green, revealing swirling spirals. She rubbed at the mark to try and sooth the pain, then dampened her fingers on her lips, before trying to wash the mark away, without success.

The machine moved on out of sight and Alice's thoughts returned to the building behind her and Jack. She had no choice, she needed to go in. Cautiously she opened the door and peered inside, before stealthily creeping through it. She lowered the door silently back into place and looked around. This was another derelict office building from the looks of it, with corridors moving deep inside. Green vines curled their way up doorways and walls, reclaiming this urban jungle. Jack was in here somewhere. Alice stole forward, ears straining for a sound to give her a clue which way to turn.

As she reached the junction of two corridors she noticed at the end of one was a three legged table made of solid glass, with nothing on it, but a small bottle with a paper label around it. Puzzled, Alice walked towards the table and picked up the bottle. She held out the label and read 'Curiosity'. Intrigued she turned it over; here the words 'killed the cat' had been written. Feeling a prickle of awareness, Alice checked over her shoulder to see if someone was watching her, seeing no one she returned to her inspection of the dead end. Spotting a small grate in the white padded wall, she replaced the bottle on the table and walked over to it. Pushing the small grey handle she moved the grate to one side and peeked through.

-oOo-

Agent White watched the oyster as she caught sight of the other thirty, packed tight and sleeping in their crates. She gave a slight gasp and he saw her mouth widen in shock as she moved closer to the small grate. She was still riveted by the sight as he gave the order to close her crate. He smiled as he heard her panicked shout and the thuds her fists made on the panel as she tried to get out. They increased as the sides began to close in around her, enclosing her as well as any of the oysters.

He couldn't resist opening the panel and peering in to see the fear on her face. "Hey, let me out of this thing", she demanded, as feisty as ever.

"Temper, temper," he admonished her, enjoying her discomfit.

Alice refused to be quelled "What the hell is this place?"

"You shouldn't have come after me little oyster" He taunted her and then stepped back to watch this crate be lifted and stacked with the others. "Must dash, I'm running late!" he added, although by this point she was unable to hear him.

He turned on his heal and trotted up the overgrown corridor back to his office. He picked up the ring case and placed it securely in his pocket. He gave a satisfied 'hm' as he considered the nights work. The ring was found, the knave apprehended and the only witness was trussed up with the other oysters and ready to take to the casino. All that was left was to deliver them all and collect his reward. He swept out of the room, making for the scarab.


	5. Gryphon

Gryphon jerked himself up a little further, blinking his eyes repeatedly to clear the sleep that threatened to close them. He had been here all night, on lookout. He couldn't sleep now, it was crucial that he remain alert and watchful. Dormouse had told him that Caterpillar needed his intel personally.

Soon after he had arrived here, in the dim dusk shadows, he had watched the raiding team assemble and set out. A routine event, which he had observed from his vantage point many times before, but something was strange tonight, Agent White had accompanied them. This was unexpected, as he usually stayed snug and secure within the White Rabbit headquarters, when he was not reporting to the casino. He watched the party until they passed out of sight, trying to spot anything else out of the ordinary, committing it all to memory as he had practised many times before. He would be quizzed later, on any detail that the others thought important.

Gryphon lay motionless on his ledge, eyes searching for any sign further sign of activity across the street. His muscles ached from the long vigil, but he dare not move for fear of detection. A fly began to investigate his neck, drawn by the warmth and aroma of unwashed flesh, its feet tickling as it skittered about. Gryphon flinched slightly, enough to dislodge the insect for a moment before it settled back down again. He determined to ignore it; he couldn't risk a bigger move.

After watching the suits exit time had passed slowly, few people ventured into this part of the city without a good reason, the suits would shoot first and ask questions later. As the sun set and the temperature dropped he began to wish he had brought a jacket, chills running down his spine. When the shivering and icy pains in his fingers and toes became too much he began to flex his hands and feet, trying to get the blood flowing without moving too much. By this time the height of the buildings around was blocking any light from the moon leaving him in a deep shadow and reducing the risk of detection. He tried to amuse himself, looking at the outlines revealed by the limited light, imagining what they could be, in the same way people did with clouds on a relaxed summer's day. Not that many of them had been able to relax for years.

Now as he cleared his eyes he spotted the party returning, their catch being led along like docile sheep. No sign of Agent White though, Gryphon noticed, puzzled. Alert now he gazed along the path to the rabbit hole, straining in the faint light to make out any more figures. The sky began to brighten as dawn crept nearer, the city holding its breath before the day began. Maybe no one else was returning today, should he leave and let Dormouse know that Agent White was through the Looking Glass? As he stretched and looked around ready to make a move he glimpsed a movement and froze, eyes widening in shock, as he recognised the captive being pulled along by the suits, Agent White hurrying behind.

As they entered the building Gryphon looked up towards the Scarab dock, there wasn't one ready, but they needed one to transport the catch to the casino. On the ledge opposite he saw the suits arrive and secure their prisoner, retreating a small way to keep him under observation. Then he heard the familiar, menacing hum of a Scarab as it squeezed through the narrow gaps between buildings, he watched as it came along the street and turned the corner of the building, docking with the ledge. In the corner of his eye he caught a flash of blue and returned his attention to the front of the building staring hard. There was no sign of anyone, whatever it was had disappeared. He remained staring at the spot, in case it reappeared, until he heard the Scarab take off. A quick check of the dock showed the prisoner was gone and thirty cargo crates being carried under the transporter. Once the Scarab was out of site Gryphon stood and stretched, muscles complaining as his joints cracked. Taking a last look round to check he wasn't being watched he loped off, keeping to the shadows.

Moving quickly and hurrying between the pools of darkness the scrawny youth looked no different to any of the other street brats living in the city. Uneven straggling blond hair fell just above Gryphons shoulders, which were covered by a hand me down grey shirt, tucked into faded black trousers, the colour emphasising the sallow look of his face. Beneath the frayed cuffs only his fingertips were visible as he swung his arms in time with his rapid walk.

Few people were about, just those on the way to work early or returning from dubious night activities. No one strolled or passed the time of day, they never did in the city. Those who lived here were scrapping a living in any way they could, manual labour to keep the city's basic infrastructure turning over, odd jobs for the casino to keep out of trouble, anything to get something to trade at the teashops. And if you didn't want to be part of it, the white rabbit and the suits would keep you in line. Chatting and getting friendly often led to manipulation or betrayal and in the worst cases, the casino. So, people kept their heads down and avoided eye contact, rushing to their destinations as fast as they could.

Swinging himself on to a ladder, Gryphon hurried down two stories. Reaching a narrow ledge, he edged along smoothly. A good way to ensure this refuge was difficult to reach undetected. Around the corner the ledge extended further out from the building and was lined with thick bushes that he skirted round. At the fifth one he disappeared into its shadowy depths were a door was concealed, green paint peeling. He knocked and waited, a small hatch in the door opened, a familiar face peered out and asked "How were the Owl and the Panther sharing a pie?"

"The panther took pie crust, and gravy, and meat. While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat," he supplied before listening as the bolts were drawn back and the door opened. He hurried inside, glancing at the door warden, who nodded briefly before turning his attention to re-securing the entrance. Gryphon strode down the narrow hall, tatty paper peeling from the walls, weeds growing on the floor, to the room at the end. Pausing, to gather his thoughts and refresh the memories he had carefully stored, he knocked.

"Enter" was the squeaked reply. Pushing the door wide Gryphon moved into the small space. A number of often repaired chairs were placed around a battered table. A small figure, swaddled in an outsized overcoat, scarf and gloves sat huddled in the chair at the end of the table. "Ah, Gryphon, come and sit down and give me your report" she instructed. "I haven't got long before I need to be off."

"I'll keep it short then. Fishing trip went out and returned with thirty more oysters. Agent White went with them and brought back Jack Heart. A.."

"What?" Dormouse squeaked, as she jumped in her seat and sat straight her eyes blinking rapidly. "Are you sure he was with them? What about the oysters, anything unusual?"

"It was him and he was in trouble. He was being dragged along by two suits and they kept him restrained while they were waiting for the Scarab. Why do you think…." Gryphon began to ask, but was interrupted again.

"Was there an oyster with him?"

"An oyster? No." he replied, now puzzled. Why was Dormouse so interested in the knave? And why would he be with an oyster?

"Anything else?" Dormouse added, putting an end to his musings.

"I thought I saw someone else, but I'm not sure. I only caught a glimpse and they didn't reappear!" He thought again about that flash of blue, was it a person or had he imagined it?

"Alright, I'm going to need to go. I'll need a full report on this one; I need to know about the oysters they brought through so start at the beginning! Lory, get in here and take a record." She shouted down the corridor as she began to rise from the chair and scurry out. Lory arrived with a torn and stained pad of paper, this must be important if they were going to use some of the small stock of paper to make a full report. Lory settled down and then looked at him expectantly, so he relaxed and let the memories take over.

"Raiding party return, led by Ace of spades. First, middle aged woman with short blond hair wearing a purple cardigan over a grey dress and with a gold chain and teardrop pendant. Next suit with middle aged gentleman, full black suit over a black and white striped tie. Third.." Gryphon continued talking, barely aware of his surroundings as the memories flowed.

oOo

Dormouse listened as Gryphon continued his recitation until she was too far away to make out the information. What a shame she couldn't stay, but she needed to get to work, her cover, which allowed her access to a whole lot of information. She left the refuge and scurried along to the teashop, thinking over what she had been told. Jack had been caught! Well that just about put an end to their hopes for a coup. The ring would be making its way back to the casino too. The only hope left was that the oyster hadn't been caught too. That would have to wait till she could study the report later. She turned her thoughts to how to get the message to Caterpillar quickly, still planning details as she hurried up the steps under the neon sign to the teashop.


	6. Scarab

Jack lay still, listening to the steady, rhythmic humming for a moment before he realised what it was. He began to stretch, twisting his head to the side before a sharp pain made him stop, wincing. His eyes opened momentarily, before he closed them against the light in the cabin, lying still once more and trying to understand where he was and what was happening. The last thing he remembered was being accosted outside Alice's flat. The suits had surprised him and, even with the training he'd received at Alice's class, he had been no match for them.

He heard footsteps coming closer and peeked through his eyes again, narrowing them to slits as he saw Agent White approaching with a disdainful look on his face. "Time for you to face the music," he sneered. "You got some of my best men in trouble when you deceived them and took the ring; you know the Queen is not merciful. Did you really think leaving it with that oyster would hide it from me?"

Jack ignored the jibe, considering this news. Agent White had the ring. Did that mean he had Alice too? He must have seen her to get the ring, but had he taken it forcibly from her. The image of Alice surrounded by suits made his heart beat a little faster, and then it clenched as another disagreeable thought surfaced. Had she been so cross following his inelegant attempts to persuade her to join him on the trip that she had simply handed over the ring to be rid of him? She didn't like being made a fool of, when she found the ring it was bound to have made her angry. Possibly angry enough to turn it over without a second thought? He succumbed to these dejected thoughts for a few moments, foreseeing his life without her in it full of dull, restrictive boundaries, and recoiled from the image.

He gave himself a little shake and sat up; he needed to concentrate on his current situation. The plans of the resistance had obviously not borne fruit, there had been no coup. Now the ring was back in the hands of the White Rabbit and he was revealed as at least untrustworthy, if not a traitor.

He should have left the flat as soon as the message came through, but had been reluctant to be without Alice. His weakness had put them all, Alice included, in danger. Was she safe? He was impatient to know, but he was dammed if he was going to give Agent White the satisfaction of asking. As far as the suits were concerned she was just another girl, they couldn't learn the truth of the threat she posed to the casino. The resistance could still use her help. If she saw Wonderland it might make it easier to prevail upon her to stay and build a future with him. Unbidden, the thought of Alice in danger seized hold of him again, images of her in distress flooding his mind. Maybe she was safer left alone. Jack was torn between his own goals and his need to keep her safe.

For a second time he dragged his thoughts back to his impending interview, it wouldn't be long until they reached the casino and _her._ He needed to find a convincing way to explain Alice and taking the ring. He might not have blown his cover if he could think of one, he'd need to be convincing! At the very least it was crucial to get a message to Caterpillar, any other plans needed to be halted so no-one else was discovered. They could try to protect Alice too! Jack closed his eyes against the insistent pain, considering when he might get chance to despatch a message and plotting his justifications.

OoO

Agent White studied Jack as he sat, incapacitated, on the bench. Reading people under pressure was a stock in trade for him, but the knave was impossible to read. Whatever was going on in his mind was hidden behind a mask of superiority, he didn't appear worried. If it weren't for the restraints this could have been one of any number of previous trips from the city.

Jack was a regular traveller the city, strutting around on casino business and leaving the dirty work to the suits in his organisation. Along with his privileged position went passage through The Looking Glass, sometimes long trips, he went out with a fishing party and didn't return for several days. No one had noticed when he swiped the ring on his last trip till long after he left, in fact the suits on duty hadn't realised it was missing till the Aces from the casino had come looking for it.

The whole organisation had been under threat, two suits sentenced to lose their heads and the rest of them given one day to set things right. He allowed himself a satisfied sigh, thankfully he had managed to resolve the whole mess in one trip, the thief apprehended, the property retrieved and the only oyster witness suitably neutralised. He might even have managed to restore his standing with Her Majesty.

Agent White turned from his contemplations and paced towards the front window. Halting behind the steersman he peered forward, searching for a glimpse of their destination. As they left the city the scarab turned up a steep valley, wooded hills on either side of a long, deep lake. The casino stood at the head of the water, the shimmering expanse separating the lucky inner circle from the less fortunate citizens of Wonderland in the city.

Instead of the familiar drab grey stone, the casino was bright, a modern steel and glass tower, built in a series of offset horizontal sections which resembled a stacked deck of cards. Bright neon signs blinked day and night, proclaiming this, The Hearts Casino, to be the heart of Wonderland. Even from this distance it proudly proclaimed its gaudy nature. Glancing over his shoulder Agent White saw the prisoner had not moved. Leaving him to ponder his fate, Agent White resumed his observations, watching as the Casino slowly moved closer.

OoO

Thirty feet below his feet Alice frantically felt around the box she found herself trapped in. The walls and ceiling were made of the same white padded material; the floor was the same grey, hardwearing plastic she had seen the other captives laid on. She still didn't understand how the large room had shrunk to this small crate, just large enough for her to sit in and no more, she was just desperate to get out.

As the crate had moved she spotted light pouring in through the bottom, this had to be where the joint was. If she could find and spring the catch, maybe she could escape. Feeling around the edges Alice became more and more anxious, she couldn't find the catch! Was it too far out? Had she missed it? As her hands came together at the front of the box she felt the edge of a metal piece. It was too far to get hold of, she needed something longer to move it with, but she'd run out of the house with nothing.

Unthinkingly, she raised her hand to run through her hair, as she often did when she was thinking. Her fingers caught and she remembered her hair grips. She removed one of the long pieces of metal and pushed it through the gap. It caught and Alice hurriedly jiggled it backwards and forwards with no success. On edge she jerkily removed it and tried the other side, silently pleading with it to move. As she felt it begin to move her erratic movements dislodged the pin. Taking a deep breath she slowed down and started again. This time the catch gave way and the floor fell away. She dropped the hair grip and grabbed the sides of the crate, her gaze drawn to the lake far below.

She was a long way up. Frantically, she tightened her grip, but it did no good. Her fingers slipped as her grip gave way and she plummeted towards the water, hoping it was deep enough to break her fall.

OoO

A burst of movement on the dock caught Agent Whites eye and he strained to make out what was happening, suits and clubs exiting the building and gathering together, waiting for their arrival. The Aces calm and still, the club keeping his distance from the others. Withdrawing his gaze Agent White turned and gave orders in preparation for their arrival, before retracing his earlier steps to where the captive sat.

"Here we are, back at the casino. On your feet." he instructed his passenger, who didn't deign to respond. Not unusual, except that now Agent White was the one in charge. He motioned to two of the suits to get Jack on his feet. They lifted him between them and he stood calmly. The customary arrogant look he usually wore back in place. It wouldn't do him any good this time, even the knave couldn't talk himself out of trouble. With a soft bump the scarab reached the ledge.

As they disembarked a waiting club stepped forward. "Agent White, the king asks that you wait in the lobby, he will call for you when he is ready to speak to you. The prisoner is to come with us, to be kept secure. Three here, will take charge of the oysters for the gaming room," he instructed, gesturing to another employee, who was dressed in the protective plastic of a tea grader. The club, messages delivered, turned on his heel and led the knave away. Agent White remained to supervise the unloading determined to have nothing else go wrong on his watch.

Crates from the scarab were resting on a lower ledge, down a flight of stairs. Two suits approached each crate in turn and released the lock. Dazed oysters were hauled to their feet and administered a spray which woke them just enough to stand unaided, but kept them docile. Oysters stood motionless until one of the tea graders men led them up the stairs to the waiting line. As Agent White watched the first few oysters being offloaded, a suit came hurrying towards him. "One of the crates is open and empty sir."

"How? They're all put under using Carpenters sprays." He broke off, his mind treacherously adding, all but one this time _._ He quickly scanned the growing line of oysters with a sinking feeling, Alice was missing. She had got out. How? Insecurity made his stomach twist uncomfortably, this could be the detail that was the end of him. He needed time to deal with the situation, one oyster couldn't cause too many problems, and she would be turned in for a decent tea as soon as anyone saw her. He thought quickly.

"That's your lot, take them away," he commanded the Three of Clubs. Turning to his suit he lowered his voice before continuing, "Don't mention this to anyone."

"But Sir, there's a loose oyster out there!"

"Do you want to lose your head too?" he demanded in a vicious whisper, watching as the colour drained from his subordinate's face, who shook his head.

Agent White took pity and reassured him, "Get some rest and have the scarab serviced. As soon as I'm done here we will return to the city and tie up this loose end." He turned and strode into the casino.

He wouldn't mention the escape, saying that he had left the oyster on the other side of the looking glass after he had taken the ring from her. Only a handful of his suits knew she had ever stepped foot into Wonderland. He could still return the knave and the ring as commanded. He reached the lobby and sat at one of the small tables, trying to convince himself everything would be fine.


	7. Trapped

Jack stood for a moment, listening to the key turn in the lock behind him. Well, that confirmed it, he was in trouble. Brought back home and locked in his room like a naughty child. He'd been marched through the casino and up to his private apartment, now all it needed was for mother to come and tell him off.

The last time he'd been locked in his room was when he was ten and he'd run away to find the kingdom of the knights. He smiled at the memory of his excitement when the tutor had first told him the old stories, of the kingdom his mother destroyed. His expression became rueful, as he recollected the execution that had followed. Mother had insisted he watch, to make sure he understood what happened to anyone who displeased her, the Queen. No more outside tutors where allowed after that, only casino employees.

Jack strode across the lush carpeted floor to the huge canopied bed on the far side, where he paused. He felt restless and anxious, fingers tracing the silky covers as he thought. On the march through the casino he had noticed a number of stares, the nature of his escort a surprise to many of the employees. It seemed his disappearance and indiscretion had been kept quiet. Mother was a master of manipulating a situation to her advantage.

Clearly, the loss of the ring had been kept quiet, instead of being spread through the employees as was intended. Some excuse for his absence had been released to calm any jitters. The long habit of obedience without question would have been difficult for employees to break.

Jack stiffened as he heard the lock turn; he waited for his visitor to announce themselves.

"Jack?" came the quiet, compelling query.

Duchess. His playmate through childhood, until he realised even the simplicity of a friendship could be tainted by the Queen. He had learnt to guard his tongue and keep his feelings hidden. Adopting his arrogant mask he turned to face her.

"Duchess, my dear!" he answered warmly, walking towards her and lifting her hand to his mouth. He would take his cues from her.

She frowned, dissatisfied with this formal greeting, expecting something more. Jack noticed the frown and in one swift movement he straightened, moving his hands to her waist and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

He made himself smile as he added, "I wasn't sure I would see you, given how I was frog marched back here."

He held still, waiting for her response. When she didn't respond at once he glanced down at the pampered blonde, in her revealing gold dress. She peered up at him through her lashes, her gaze calculating.

"What did you expect, gallivanting off through the glass to please yourself? You were meant to be here, with me," she retorted, a note of petulance creeping into her voice.

Jack felt the familiar feelings of claustrophobia creeping up on him. Would he never have any freedom, would he always be watched and controlled?

"I didn't expect to be hit on the head and dragged back, no better than one of the oysters. I can leave when I want. I don't answer to you." he replied, a note of anger creeping in to his voice.

"Well, you will soon and then you won't be leaving again, my love. She's making sure of that, she's brought forward the wedding," Duchess purred, a spiteful smile playing on her lips.

So that was it, he was to be tied to his watcher, controlled and neutralised. This was his mother's punishment for refusing to do what she wanted. After all it was these plans for his future that had driven him to help the resistance. It was just like her to find a way to get what she wanted.

Time to play his part then, "Ah, they didn't need to abduct me for that, if they'd told me I would have been straight back. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting," he added, gently stroking a finger under her chin.

He smiled at her and raised his eyebrows, mimicking anticipation. Duchess wasn't fooled, suspicion sharpening her features. Jack tightened his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace even as his mind recoiled from the close contact. She held herself stiff for a minute, before he felt her soften and heard her quiet sigh.

"Why do you distrust me so?" she asked plaintively, catching him by surprise. "All these years we've known each other, been each other's only comfort. We could be happy together, if only you'd try."

He considered this for a minute, it was true. Once he had been delighted at the idea of marrying her, and it wasn't easy to lie to her now. But that was before he realised how she colluded with his mother, keeping him captive. He hardened his heart, he could act as well as she could.

"And we will be," he told her. "I just wanted one last adventure before we settled down. Forgive me?" he asked, using his most winning smile as he released her a little. "I'll make it up to you," he added, tenderly.

"I'll make sure you do," she replied, a slightly threatening note in her voice. She looked up at his face, raising a hand to touch his cheek. Her gaze rose to his hair, her fingers following as she rubbed a few of the strands between her fingers.

"This is new," she commented, "Do you like it? It seems a bit plain to me."

"Oh, I'd forgotten all about that, it helps to blend in with the oysters," Jack told her. He glanced down at his rumpled shirt before adding ruefully, "just like the clothes. I should probably freshen up. Then we should celebrate. Let's have a toast with something special."

Her lip twitched upwards, "What did you have in mind?" she inquired, eyes lighting up in anticipation.

"I'm sure there'll be something special down in the cellars, I'll get a grader sent up with the newest emotions," he answered, returning her expression.

"I'll do that, while you clean up. After all, you're mine to take care of from now on," she purred as she turned and sauntered away.

Jack suppressed the shiver her words prompted, watching the door close behind her, before turning to his dressing room. If he was to face down his mother he may as well look the part of the dutiful prince.

-OoO-

Jack was drying his hair as he heard the door reopen.

"That was quick," he said, peering into his room, but it wasn't Duchess. "Crab, is it clear?" he added, hurriedly, to his resistance contact.

"All clear, Duchess was summoned to see your mother, we've a few minutes," came the reply.

"Okay, wait while I get dressed." Jack ducked back into his dressing room and speedily pulled on his red court suit before returning to main room.

"Ring?" Crab asked without preamble.

"Agent White has it," Jack told him. "Coup?" he asked in turn

"Didn't start. The Queen," was the brief, yet clear, reply. "The girl?"

Wonderful, Jack thought as these words brought Alice's image to mind. "Located, but also compromised. She ran into Agent White."

"Might be on the casino floor, new catch arrived with you," Crab mused

Jack felt icy fingers grasp his heart as he had a vision of Alice, sedated and vacant, instead of her lively self.

"Long dark hair, blue dress, red tights, sound familiar?" he asked, hastily.

"Not one who was brought in, so we don't know if she's safe, home or here," was Crab's summary. "I'll report, get people on the lookout, find out what's next," he finished.

"Good, I'll…..," Jack paused momentarily, at the sound of the door handle turning. "…would you recommend? The Duchess and I are celebrating," he continued.

Crab caught the cue and raised the tray in his hand. "Desire, fresh from the new batch," He pointed to the first pair of glasses, each containing a tiny drop of orange liquid. "That rare treat Bliss, not seen any of this for months," indicating a pink drop. He lowered his voice before continuing, "And finally the very newest, not released yet, clear conscience."

Jack examined the transparent liquid carefully, that should help when he had to see his mother. He turned to the returning Duchess.

"What do you think of the selection, my dear?" he enquired.

"They sound just right. You can leave them on the table and leave us now, Three." she instructed Crab.

He nodded and walked over to the table, his tea graders plastic coat rustling as he turned and walked out of the room as instructed.

Jack walked to the table and picked up the Bliss tumblers, offering one to Duchess.

"Bliss, most appropriate," he said, clinking his glass with hers before raising it to his lips and draining the contents as he watched her do the same.

-OoO-

Crab strode into the cellar, looking around at the graders present, he needed a teashop trader. It was time to report in. News of Jacks return was sure to have been heard in the city, a watch was being kept. He needed to pass on what he had been told so that new plans could be formed. If he was to maintain his cover he couldn't just disappear to the city whenever he wanted, so he had developed a way of passing on his intel.

He paced through the quiet rooms, skirting the people working at the long benches, talking to one and other in hushed tones. You rarely heard raised voices down here. No one paid any attention as he moved passed; it was nothing out of the ordinary. In his hands he tossed the bottle he was carrying from side to side, careful not to touch the bottom.

"Four!" he called, as he spotted who he was after. The club in question turned to search for the owner of the voice.

"Ah, Three," he acknowledged. "What have you got for me?" he asked, eyeing the bottle carefully.

"New product for the teashops, I thought your usual contact would be a great place to start!"

"I didn't think we had the go ahead for a launch?" Four answered warily.

"Just came down from upstairs, thought you'd want to know before you left," Crab told the other man. "Brought you a sample, in case you want to take it now," he added.

"I wasn't planning on going till this afternoon," the trader protested, annoyed at being harried.

Crab considered for a moment, he had the authority to simply order the trader out, but he hadn't maintained his position in the cellar by drawing attention to his actions. Subtlety was needed and no one spent long in the casino without learning a little about manipulation from the Queen.

"Oh! Alright. If you're not going I'll take this to Five. He was looking to make an early start and I promised to get some to him too," he responded, making sure to keep his tone light and conversational. "It'll save me heading back to the stills to collect another set," he added, smiling as he made to turn away.

The Four of Clubs frowned as he watched an opportunity begin to fade, "Actually.." he began, before hesitating, unsure of what to say.

"Yes?" Crab prompted

"It wouldn't hurt to get out early, miss the heat of the day by getting back quick."

"Okay, here you go." Crab handed over the bottle and watched as Four packed it carefully in a box. Calling to one of the waiting suits he turned and left the cellar, heading for the scarab dock. Crab smiled to himself, as he returned to his work station, job done. Now it was back to the routine tasks of his job, distilling emotions and processing oysters.


	8. Trade

Hatter strode through the long, low room impatiently, feet kicking at the isolated clumps of plants growing through the floor. The harsh lighting bouncing off the white painted ducting and pipes in the ceiling added a blanched hue to his pale skin. He paced past the row of tables that lined one side of the elongated space, where a few early customers sat drinking the small purchases they hoped would get them through the day. In a few hours it would be crowded with clients, brokering deals, completing trades and sampling the goods they had haggled so hard for.

He reached the broker's podium at the head of the room; from here the market news and developments would be disclosed to the hectic traders on the floor. But not if it remained empty, where was that mouse? Hatter looked back down the room; beyond the tables the shop counter was pristine. Busy servers prepared for the day ahead, checking the bottled teas. Their bright colours drew the eye on the backlit white shelves, not all his clients came to trade, some came to buy and experience.

Dormouse should be here to go through the overnight trades and discuss the trends. This information was the key to getting the right supply from the casino, so he could make sure the clubs didn't land him with a load of worthless junk. Good information and good contacts, the key to making a living from the teas, instead of letting the teas dictate your daily life.

He turned to face the door as it opened, ready to berate his tardy employee, "Just where….," he stopped for the newcomer was not Dormouse, but a tea grader, with a box, and accompanied by a suit.

"New delivery from the casino," he said as he loped down the room.

"I didn't order anything," Hatter protested.

He eyed the box suspiciously, the last time an unwanted new delivery had arrived it had been a new product that had been left on the shelves for weeks before he had finally offloaded it to one of his occasional informants. After all, those who frequented the shop already had this sad yearning for a lost something; they weren't going to trade for wistfulness, once they'd experienced a drop and found out what the name meant.

Hatter noticed the servers had stopped preparations and were listening, "Get back to work," he instructed.

Facing the tea grader he motioned for him to follow before leading the way to the office. You could never be too careful, knowledge was a commodity too, best to keep discussions private. Turning, he scowled, the suit had come too. It would make it harder to bargain with the grader about the delivery.

"What delight have you brought this time?" he asked, not quite managing to keep the scepticism out of his voice.

The suit bristled and stood straighter, puffing out his chest ready for action if Hatter was uncooperative. The grader looked at the heavy set man in irritation and held out a placatory hand. Hatter wondered if the suits realised how much harder they made it for their colleagues when they riled sellers like him.

"New product, fresh from the casino floor, never been released before," the grader stated, meeting Hatters gaze.

"What is it? It needs to be better than the last one!" he replied.

The tea grader grimaced as he was reminded of the fiasco of the last release, it had been an error in the laboratory, somehow a new tea had got through and nobody thought to check it. The oysters where kept happy and entertained, who would have thought that they could experience negative emotions in the casino?

"It's a good one! We've had it in reserve for a while. It's being released as a gesture of good faith, to restore confidence in the teas," he said, his brow rising as he tried to convince Hatter that he was being honest.

"I'll be the judge of that; I'm the one who lost customers. No customers mean no trades and no trades mean I can't afford any more of your little products!" Hatter responded in irritation, "Tell me what you've got and I'll tell you if I'm interested."

This was too much for the suit. "You'll take the product," he growled.

Hatter ignored him, but continued waiting for his answer from the grader. They both knew that if he didn't want to attract White Rabbit's notice he had to take it, but the details were always up to the individual graders and shop owners. It was trading time and he couldn't be distracted by the unthinking muscle, who was meant to intimidate him into a bad trade. Hatter had been at this too long for it to work, but the casino was too set in its ways to try to be more subtle.

"Clear conscience, a tea that relieves all guilt for the drinker." The man finally revealed.

Hatter pursed his lips, unthinkingly running his tongue along his upper lip as he considered this. "What makes you think people will trade it?" he asked.

He didn't really want to hear the answer, he knew it was a winner; he just wanted more time to think. There wasn't a person in the city that hadn't, at one time or another, had to do something they weren't proud of, something that nagged away at the back of their mind. This would allow those who drank it to forget for a short while.

That also made it one of the most dangerous teas. Their popularity came from the relief they gave people from their daily lives. In the city life was hard, suspicious and lonely. Escaping, for a few hours, was a wonderful relief, one that most people succumbed to sooner or later. Inevitably, this only made it harder to return to normal life, the bliss of another drink calling customers back.

"Who else is getting this?" Hatter queried.

"It's being offered to five shops, including yours, now. Further release will depend on how many take it," answered the grader, "We've a small supply of this, it is difficult to get, so we're hoping to keep supply to the market small."

"Yeah, easier to wring out more for each trade that way" he answered cynically.

"It makes you more that way too!" the grader responded sharply.

"Not if I can't get hold of it, or the price is too high!" Hatter scoffed.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. They were getting to the nitty gritty now, the grader knew he was going to take it. All that was left was to get the best deal possible. This was a sure winner, he was certain, and in this game customer loyalty was key. They soon went somewhere else if you couldn't supply.

"So what's the cut?" Hatter asked.

"Top of the range product so a quarter of all trade!" the grader stated.

Hatter snorted, "An untried product, with possible supply issues. No more than an eighth," he bartered.

"I'll give you a guarantee it won't go city wide for six months," the grader tried.

Hatter wasn't falling for that one, "That just means you have to leave out a single district. They never give you power to say that anyway!" He considered for a moment, the golden rule was supply, he needed a constant one. "A seventh, with exclusive supply." He offered

"You know I can't do that," the grader scoffed. "How about a fifth," he countered.

"That's still twice as high as any other new product and you know it, can't do more than a seventh!" Hatter told him emphatically.

He waited, making himself remain still. This was always the hardest part, remaining calm so as not to give the game away, waiting to get what he really wanted. It was close now.

The grader watched him closely, considering his next move. There where plenty of tea shops in the city, but this was one of the best, most of the cities inhabitants made their way in here most weeks. Any new release needed to be here and Hatter knew it.

"I can't go less than a sixth for premium product," the grader said finally.

Hatter recognised the note in his voice, they'd bartered often over the years, now was the time to try to get what he really wanted. "Only if I get first supply if it gets short!" he demanded. He held still, waiting to see if he had pushed too far.

There was a long pause and Hatter willed himself to keep quiet, the grader needed to break first.

"Okay, Deal. First refusal, at a sixth," agreed the grader. "Trades to be half luxuries." He added.

Hatter started and then gave a rueful smile. "Okay!" he agreed. It was a higher luxury rate than normal, but he had secured the supply and that was the most important thing, he could afford to be generous on this point. He stepped towards the grader and shook hands.

"Do you need anything else today? The next batch of trade items is ready if you want to take it," he offered. Customers who bought teas bartered goods for them, from necessities like food, to luxuries like electrical goods scavenged from derelict buildings. He in turn supplied a cut of each to the casino, depending on what they needed.

"No, the collection will be as normal. Do you have anything else for me?" the grader asked, regarding Hatter carefully.

His was not the best supplied tea shop by accident; he offered more than just good trade prices. One additional advantage of running the shop was the network of people you met. Everyone in the city needed something and everyone had something they could, for the right price, be persuaded to part with, even information. It was a lucrative pastime to introduce one group to the other and redistribute goods or knowledge to those who wanted them.

"No new rumours at the moment," he replied, keeping an innocent look on his face. Adding "I'll see you as normal in two weeks then," he gestured that both visitors should precede him out of the room.

A few more customers had arrived, but when they noticed the casino employees the room went silent. In the quiet all eyes followed the pair until the door closed behind them. Slowly people turned back to what they had been doing and the noise level crept up again. Hatter heard a snuffle behind him and turned to find Dormouse in position on her podium, asleep.

"What time do you call this?" he barked at her.

She started and sat up, blinking her eyes. "Hatter? " she asked sleepily.

"Who else is it going to be?" he asked. He gave an exasperated sigh, "Don't bother with the excuses, just listen. Excitement and lust are in short supply, so push the trade rates. We've got a lot of hope left, so try to get it moving. And we've just got a new product in – clear conscience. Wait till you have a roomful and then give it the full treatment, it should go sky high."

He looked at her to see if she had taken it in. "A new release, that's rare," she mused, seemingly to herself. "I wonder…..," she glanced at Hatter watching her and stopped. His gaze sharpened and he was just about to ask her to finish when one of his other employees tapped him on the shoulder, drawing his attention to the first of the private traders of the day.

"I'll be in my office, seeing associates, if you need me," he told them both. "Bring me a cup of the Taylors we got yesterday," he added to the counter girl, before heading for his office with new visitor.

 **A.N. – My first look at Hatter, trying to give a feel for his daily life, before Alice disrupts it. (Btw for those not in the UK, Taylors is a Yorkshire based company making teas. As ALP is from Leeds this was a little nod to him).**


	9. Counting

'Ninety nine, one hundred. One, two, three...' Alice reached the end and started her count again, monotonously working her way through the numbers, a mental chant to keep herself going.

She dare not look up at the city again; last time she checked it had seemed no closer. Now she focused on the water in front of her, thinking only of stretching her arms to scoop the water and bending her knees to kick out and propel her cold body forward, tallying each stroke.

Reach, scoop, hands together.

Reach, scoop, hands together.


	10. Audience

"You're late!"

Agent White looked up at the disgruntled club towering over him, irritation clear to see on his face.

"I've been here waiting, as instructed, since the delivery arrived," he replied blithely.

These court clubs didn't worry him, for all their self-importance they were just as vulnerable to the capricious moods of the Queen as anyone. The club hadn't waited to hear his answer and Agent White rose to follow the swiftly moving man. They crossed the bright glass atrium, making for the lifts that would deliver them to the audience chamber, high in the building.

Employees hurried from task to task, while patrons strolled to the latest diversion, on the gaming floors or in the bar. None of them acknowledged Agent White. He smiled grimly; the years of dedication to the cause of the Hearts Casino had made people wary of him. He noted one or two employees who ducked away hurriedly and made a mental note to check up on their dealings.

The ping of the lift door caught his attention. He and his escort entered, maintaining their silence. Agent Whites thoughts turned to the imminent interview, reminding himself how well he had cleared things up. The thought of that oyster, Alice, roaming Wonderland soured his mood. As soon as the ring was back with the Queen he could catch up with her. She would come to regret the inconvenience she had caused him.

They reached the audience chamber and the door opened, the head of the emotion brewery leaving after a meeting with the King. The King, his red suit and hair clashing with the flushed colour of his face, caught sight of Agent White.

"Ah, there you are," he exclaimed enthusiastically. He crossed the room looking expectantly at the agent. Agent White wasted no time in showing him the box.

"Oh joy, oh bright day!" the King cried in delight. His whole face lit up with happiness and relief. He completed the last few steps to the agent and took the box in his hands, reassuring himself it was real.

"Ah! Finally and at last," he continued. Agent White kept his expression clear, careful not to show the annoyance he felt. After all he had done to retrieve the ring and the prince this was a bit much. The King didn't notice, he was too busy examining the box. He seemed to be looking for something on the surface.

"How do you open this thing?" he asked. Agent White looked at him perplexed, how was he supposed to know.

"I don't know, Majesty," he replied, looking intently at the box to see if he could work it out.

"Well there's a hidden catch somewhere, but I can never remember," the King explained to his confused employees. He studied the box for a moment or two more before turning to the club and giving his instructions.

"Summon the Queen."

The Club left on his errand and the King began to arrange the room and its occupants to receive her.

Ten minutes later the room had adopted a more formal tone. Members of the court lined the room, suits around the table and guests of the casino lining up on one side. Agent White stood to attention on the opposite side, carrying a formal presentation cushion upon which the box sat.

The doors opened and in swept the Queen of Hearts, her eyes sweeping around the assembled subjects as she processed grandly from the door up to her throne. She was an imposing figure, not in height, but in demeanour. Her eyes were fierce, seeming to look straight through those who found themselves pierced by her gaze. Her mouth was always compressed into a tight line, giving it a disapproving look. The floor length court gown she wore, emblazoned with her card, was in stark contrast to the figure hugging, revealing outfits she insisted the ladies of the court wore.

As she reached the top of the raised dais she turned to the room, surveying the occupants with disdain. They better have a good reason for disturbing her, she had been enjoying herself. The courtiers had been vying for her attention, trying to outdo each other with outlandish stories. She had taken care to deflate those who were becoming too secure and encourage those who thought they were out of favour. It was important to maintain the delicate balance, and amusing to watch their obvious attempts to ingratiate themselves.

"How are all my lovely suits today?" she asked the room at large, giving no hint as to her mood. They all looked up at her, no one eager to draw attention to themself.

"We are very happy, Ma'am," her husband replied, in his worst toadying voice. She resisted the urge to grit her teeth.

"How nice you're all so clever and pretty," she ground out, her tone suggesting the opposite. She took a step back and seated herself in her rightful place, ready to deal with whatever reason had called her here.

"We've found the Stone of Wonderland!" exclaimed the King, keen to share the good news and cheer his wife up for all the courtiers' sakes. An irate Queen made everyone's lives difficult. Her head snapped round, her eyes searching hungrily.

"Where is it?" she demanded.

Agent White stepped forward and presented the box on its cushion, looking far too confident for her liking. She would make sure he paid later for the lapses in his organisation that had allowed her ring to be stolen. That was something for later, at that moment she was more concerned with getting her beautiful ring back on her finger where it belonged. She took the box quickly and with swift movements placed her fingers over the hidden catch, listening to her husband's prattling as she did so.

"We'll have the Looking Glass up and running in no time and this time we'll pull in 50 or 100 oysters a day," he was asserting happily, sure that she would be delighted by this outcome.

She felt the catch give and slowly turned the lid, loosening the top. She lifted it clear and stopped in shock. She sat for a moment transfixed by the empty box, where was her ring? Was this some kind of joke? Well if they were foolish enough to try to fool her she would make sure they paid.

"What a charming practical joke," she said, taking care to keep her anger out of her voice. She didn't keep control of her kingdom by losing her temper.

"My dear?" the king asked in confusion. Well he wasn't playing a game, one of the reasons she had chosen him was his lack of guile. She could read him like an open book; he didn't know where the ring was. He came towards her and looked at the box in bewilderment. She handed him the empty box, he took it, clearly still trying to work out where the ring could be.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked caustically. She should have known better than to trust the job of retrieving her ring to the suits. The King suddenly went still as something occurred to him. He turned his head to face Agent White

"The girl!"

Agent White blanched visibly, looking at the King and the empty box in horror, all his self-assurance draining almost perceptibly to the floor. When neither man seemed likely to explain the Queen prompted them.

"Girl?"

Her husband looked back to face her, gathering his thoughts.

"Agent White took the box from a girl, an oyster," he explained. "She must have the ring," he added, turning to the horrified agent.

"Yes," he agreed, gazing at the floor in mortification. How could he have under estimated that oyster so? She must have switched the ring for the box at some point, which meant she was onto him from the start. And now he couldn't even produce her for interrogation. His mind whirred as he tried to think of some way to rescue the situation and prevent his own demise.

"Where is she now?" came the question he was dreading. He had no choice but to reveal the facts he had hidden on his return.

"She escaped," he told them, his voice faltering a little. The Queen turned to look at him, her gaze piercing right through him. He swallowed nervously.

"What exactly do you mean escaped?" the King asked. He hadn't been told this part of the tale and was just as inquisitive as his wife. Agent White tried to explain.

"Some of our honeycomb containers are getting a little old," he told them, thinking about the docile nature of the oysters. Why hadn't he had Alice put to sleep? It would have solved all this trouble. He tried to dig his way out of this mess.

"We have renovations planned in next year's budget."

It was no good, the Queen stood in outrage, her expression darkening as she glowered at him.

"An oyster is running around Wonderland with my ring?" she demanded

"We'll find her," he reassured her, not managing to sound as confident as he wanted to. After all he had found the prince when he had absconded; he would make short work of finding an oyster, alone, in Wonderland.

"Oh we'll find her alright," the Queen agreed, before delivering a crushing blow to his hopes of sorting this mess out. "But you Agent White will take no further part."

He looked at her in disbelief as she began to make her way out of the room. After all the years of loyal service he was to be removed like this? He shook his head unable to accept the outcome. She said no more as she left, motioning to the club to remove him. The club, confused, asked for clarification.

"His head ma'am?"

Agent White looked at him in shock. How could he ask that? If he had said nothing there was a chance she would have forgotten to sentence him.

"Yes, of course! What else, his foot?" she retorted irritably, not breaking her stride as she spoke.

All hope dashed, Agent White stood dazed.

"I'll put all suits on standby," the King pronounced, trying to calm the anger of his wife.

"No you'll only alert the resistance the last thing we want is to feed that riff raff a grain of encouragement," she countered. "First we need to find out more about this girl. I think it is time I saw my son!" she announced, leaving the room.

Agent White felt his arms grasped as he was marched from the room in a scene similar to his arrival with the prince.

oOo

Jack watched Duchess as she walked away from him, the desire tea he had consumed shooting tingles through him as he watched her hips undulate. Her dress scooped to the small of her back, revealing an expanse of smooth, creamy skin. She reached the table and ran her fingers up the small glasses still sat on the tray. She caressed them slowly, running her fingers up and around the rim before peering over her shoulder to see the effect of her actions.

He swallowed, returning her gaze. She smiled as she picked up the glasses and returned to his side. She handed him his glass before dipping a finger in her own glass, lifting it to her mouth to sample the liquid inside. A small drop of liquid glistened on her lips. Jack stood transfixed as he fought the urge her action and the emotion tea prompted within him. A small sound escaped the back of his throat as he lost the battle and bent towards her to kiss the bright bead of liquid.

Inches from completing the kiss he froze at the sound of the door being unlocked. He looked to see who was intruding, without raising his head.

The entering club halted in embarrassment, his cheeks colouring, before announcing, "Her Majesty!"

Jack straightened, stepping away from Duchess. He turned his back to the door and drained his glass before walking over to replace it on the table. She watched him, before draining her own glass and turning to face the door as he did the same.

"Mother," he acknowledged, inclining his head slightly, the merest of bows. Duchess dropped into a curtsey, lowering her head in deference.

The Queen looked at him, lip curling into a slight sneer. She didn't return his greeting, just looked him up and down, before addressing Duchess and the club.

"Leave us, it is time I had a discussion with my son," she commanded. Meeting Duchesses questioning gaze she added "Alone," in a steely tone.

Duchess rose from her position and swept past the club holding the door. He backed out and closed the door behind him.

"Just what did you think you were doing?" she demanded, once they were alone.

"Having a little fun," Jack replied, turning to grin insolently at his mother. "One of the privileges of being a prince," he continued, trying to keep up the cavalier attitude. If he could keep her thinking of him as a selfish, spoilt brat she was less likely to suspect his treachery.

"Only within the limits I set you," she retorted. "I denied your request for a visit through the looking glass. Remember, you answer to me. I can take your precious privileges if you displease me!" she threatened.

Jack put on his best amused son expression as he responded, "But you won't. And I've had my fun!"

"Fun, do you have any idea of the trouble you've caused?" she asked angrily, pacing towards him.

"What? Sending a few suits out? Hardly a great inconvenience," he scoffed as he turned and paced towards his open window, giving himself a screen as he waited for her next comment. How much did she know?

"You took my ring!" she exploded, "imagine if the resistance got hold of that information. You're not stupid Jack; you know how much damage that could do!"

He shrugged, "I needed to be sure I could get back."

"So why give it that oyster? Trying to impress her?" his mother inquired.

He stiffened, thinking fast. She knew about Alice, but it seemed not who she was. His mother was cross, but she would have been livid had she realised exactly who he had tried to fetch back to the casino. It was time to try his cover then.

"I didn't, she must have taken it!" he clarified. He knew he should feel guilty, talking of Alice in this way, but he could feel the effects of his latest tea sample soothing it away.

"How?"

"She was a diversion, mother," he smirked as he glanced at her. "Sometimes I was a little…" he paused. "Distracted," he finished, his smile growing wider.

"Save me the details," she interrupted in revulsion. "Why her? Who is she?" she asked.

"A girl," he replied, allowing a lewd smile to cover his face, before turning back to the window. "A pretty, athletic girl with very pleasing…qualities," he finished.

His mother exclaimed in disgust before snapping, "Well I hope your enjoyment was worth the high price!"

She hadn't got the ring back. The thought hit Jack like a thunder bolt. Did she have Alice? He thought anxiously. He shook himself slightly, trying to snap out of his daze. He kept his back to his mother as he replied.

"I'm sure you can persuade her to return it," he said nonchalantly.

"Oh I will, when I get hold of her," she assured him grimly.

Alice wasn't here. He released a breath he didn't know he had been holding, before turning to face his mother. She would be suspicious if he didn't look at her soon. She looked at him, warily. He wasn't in the clear yet.

"As for you, I am keeping you under lock and key till I get to the bottom of this!"

"Is that really necessary?" he queried

"Oh yes. I know you, devious wretch, you're up to something!" she answered knowingly. "This way I can keep you out of mischief," she added, before she turned and walked away.

Jack started to follow her towards the door, determined to change her mind, only to hear it lock once more. He growled in exasperation, trapped still. What good was knowing Alice and the ring where out there if he couldn't do anything about it. He clenched his fist, fighting the urge to thump something and began pacing back and forth, trying to think.

oOo

"Well?" asked the King anxiously as soon as she left the room.

She rolled her eyes and walked past into the next chamber. He quickly followed before repeating his query.

"We need to find her!"

"Right, now I'll round up the suits," he stated, returning to the door.

"No. We need someone who can work quietly behind the scenes. Someone cold blooded, ruthless and criminally insane. Is Mad March alive yet?" She asked, a cruel grin twisting her features.

"I'll find out," her husband replied, rushing away.

The Queen followed him into the corridor, before turning in the opposite direction; she would wait for news in her chambers.


	11. The city

Alice drifted lazily on her back, wrists circling slowly as they continued to propel her toward the distant city. Occasionally she kicked her legs as an afterthought. She gazed at the sky, distractedly, not really seeing what was above her, but watching the images that filled her mind, unbidden.

She had swum as long as she could towards her goal, the images of Jack being dragged along giving her energy and drive long after she became tired. She drove herself on relentlessly until forced to concede that the distance was just too great to be covered in one concerted effort. Discouraged, she had flipped onto her back so she wouldn’t have to see the distant buildings mocking her as they seemed to float further away the more she swam toward them.

Slowly her body recovered from the exertions of that first mad cap effort allowing her to continue her gentle progress, when she finally thought to look at the city once more she was surprised by how close she had come. She turned once more onto her front, searching the lake edge for one of the canals that led further into the urban warren. Picking her route she struck out powerfully, once more fully focused on reaching the shore.

oOo

Alice scowled in frustration, looking around impatiently. She had followed the canal into the city, but nowhere was the wall low enough for her to get herself out of the water. She had tried once or twice to lift herself from the lake, only to fall back, dunking herself and flailing to reach the surface again, gasping for breath. Why have the water ways, if people in the city didn’t come down to the edge?

Rounding a bend, she spotted a boat. Hope rushed through her as her heart rate jumped, it must be a wharf. She swam closer trying to glimpse the area hidden by the boats bulk. Finally seeing the lower dock surface she sighed in relief, acknowledging the fatigue building once more in her muscles and her growing cold. She kicked for the edge and raised herself gratefully onto the rough wooden planks, lowering her head to the ground, closing her eyes and breathing deeply for long moments to recover her breath.

A scrape on the wooden boards startled her from her recovery; she opened her eyes to see a shabby, worn gumboot close to her nose. She drew her head back, away from the encroaching item, before raising her gaze to take in the rest of this newcomer.

Ancient oilskin trousers, encrusted with the grime from decades of working life and a matching long coat and fisherman’s hat completed an ensemble that would have been at home on the deck of a merchant sea vessel. A look at the dirt encrusted face, framed with shoulder length, greasy hair hanging loose in rats’ tails, did little to reassure Alice that she had finally found an ally in this strange place.

Slowly, so as not to startle the stranger, Alice rose to her feet, facing him and raising her hands in an attempt to mollify him. He shifted from foot to foot and Alice noticed the gutting knife held in one hand, her eyes becoming mesmerised by its sinuous shifts. The stranger watched her suspiciously, weighing her up and trying to see if she was a threat, or possibly useful.

Just as Alice began to speak to him, trying to get him to put the knife away, he caught sight of something on her arm and immediately began to back off. Alice glanced at her arm in confusion, the green burn she had received earlier catching her off guard.

“Oyster!” he exclaimed, “I don’t want nothing to do with you, you hear?” Turning tail he stooped to pick up a trap, containing two dead rats, before hurrying to the entry way at the back of the wharf.

“They see us together, we both be dead,” he continued muttering to himself as he went.

Seeing her only contact with some kind of humanity disappearing, Alice hurried after him, calling out for him to stop. He took no notice, until in desperation she offered to pay him for help. He paused, considered for a moment and then turned to face her again once more. Alice scrabbled in her pocket for any cash she might have, taking out a soggy paper mush, she recognised a twenty and held it out.  
“What’s that?” he asked in confusion.

“Twenty bucks,” Alice clarified, thinking ruefully that it hadn’t survived it’s soaking very well.

“Bucks,” he echoed. Her information did not seem to help the rat catcher, his face screwed up on confusion, but now she had his attention she pressed on. “I’m looking for a man who was kidnapped and brought here, if you help me find him it yours.” She held the cash out to him once more.

He regarded her warily and asked if she was looking for another oyster. Although she had no idea what the word meant she agreed, after all Jack had come through that mirror just as she had. He still seemed unsure of the cash in her hand, so she allowed him to take it, to see it was genuine. He peered at it, before both sniffing and tasting the paper. Taking his strange behaviour as assent to help her, Alice held out her hand and introduced herself.

At once a strange look of awe crossed his face, eyes widening as he asked her, “The Alice of Legend?” He stared at her intently, making her shift slightly. It was just the way her day was going that, on top of everything, her only source of help seemed to be a little unstable. She tried to get him back on track.

“Look you’re kinda freaking me out. The guy I’m looking for, he’s probably locked inside that beetle thing. Do you know where it’s headed?” It was no good; he wasn’t listening as he continued to grin at her.

“You come with me,” he instructed, turning and hurrying off. “Quick! Quick!” he admonished as she hesitated, wondering if this was just going to lead her into more trouble. From the entry way he led her onto a cast iron walkway clipped to the edge of a warehouse, pausing and checking over his shoulder regularly, ensuring she was still following. Crossing a bridge, Alice found herself once more among the ledges and bridges of the impossible buildings.

The streets were still as deserted, she could see no one walking along. Was this an abandoned city? Her mind, free from decisions as she followed her guide, began to wonder just where she had ended up and what sort of place this was. The rat catcher seemed fearful and as she hurried after him, keeping close to the shadows and sides of the walkways, she felt a growing sense of foreboding. This was not a friendly place, but she needed to find out more if she was to help Jack.

She stopped behind her guide as they reached a tall red box she vaguely recognised from old movies. The rat catcher seemed to reach a pitch of anxiety, checking around for observers, before pulling a dirty scarf from round his neck and grabbing Alice’s wrist. She snatched back, trying to break contact with his grubby hands, but he was too strong and began to wrap the scarf around her arm.

“Oh! No, thanks, I’m okay” she protested, squirming as the greasy, cold rag slid over her skin, but he continued to take no notice.

“They see you oyster, you dead,” he told her as he finished the scarf with a tight knot. His words sent a chill through her, her thoughts turning to the men who had Jack and their loathsome leader.

“They? Who’s they?” she asked.

Ignoring her questions the rat catcher instructed her “First I go. Count ten, then you go.” Without waiting for a response he hurried off, across a bridge and into the building opposite. A dirty white, smoke blacked veranda covered double swing doors, that swung closed behind her guide. A modern electronic sign above proclaiming the building to be a teahouse gave the only clue to its use.

Alice stared at the building in exasperation, now what? She didn’t know if she could trust this guy, but he did seem fearful of the people she had escaped from. And she couldn’t just wait here. Taking a deep breath she ran across the bridge and quickly into the building.

Finding herself in a narrow dingy corridor Alice paused and listened. A babble of voices could be heard, seemingly arguing loudly all at once, no single comment discernible in the cacophony. A glow of light brightened the inner end of the corridor and Alice cautiously edged towards it, before side stepping around the corner and into the space beyond.

Immediately her ears were assaulted by the noise, but unlike the argument that she had imagined, the cries were those of people trading with each other. Groups sat around tables spaced either side of the central grassy space, others examined the wares for sale on the brightly lit shelves around the outside. At the front of the room a larger crowd gathered around a podium, with an ever changing electronic board above, and a large chalkboard, where an employee was rapidly changing the figures written below a number of commodities.

The scene reminded Alice of clips from old movies showing the early stock exchange, an impression strengthened as she took in the clothes most of the clientele wore, suits with trilbies for the men, dresses and long coats for the women, hair hidden by hats of their own. Their appearance conflicted with the stark lighting and clean white décor more reminiscent of modern architecture, the low ceiling emphasising the packed busy feeling of the room.

Intrigued by the fierce bargaining Alice took a closer look at the products on offer. Clear bottles contained small amounts of brightly coloured liquids, jealously guarded by their owners, like precious perfumes. On a table nearby two men bargained, before nervously switching bottles, each hungrily opening their purchase and sampling a small amount. A loud bang brought the room to silent attention, as the occupant of the podium introduced a new product; clear conscience.

As he described the feelings of guilt the product would relieve Alice felt herself twisting uncomfortably, remorse at how she had treated Jack rising to the surface. He wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for her, why hadn’t she listened to him? Why had she simply thrown him out?

She was lost in her thoughts and didn’t notice when the room resumed its noisy activity and her missing guide appeared at her shoulder. He gave her a little shake and motioned for her to follow. Alice tried to pull her scattered thoughts together, regretting the past was not going to help Jack, she needed to find someone who could help her free him.


	12. Bought

Hatter sat quietly in his office, enjoying the sensation of warm tea sliding over his tongue, bursts of citrus flavour delighting his taste buds. On hectic days like today you had to grab the moments of peace where you could find them. The still, quiet calm was broken by the shuffling return of Ratty, an occasional informant, and his find – the supposed oyster. More than likely this find would be no better than the others, but every now and again he stumbled upon something worth trading for. Hatter inhaled the fragrant steam from the cup he held once more, eyes closing momentarily, before addressing his new guest.   
“Would you like a cup of tea?” He didn’t bother to turn his chair to face them, trying to keep them off balance and guessing.  
Alice started slightly, bemused by this first recognisable civility since she chased after Jack, before her manners automatically kicked in.  
“No, thank you.” Alice noted that this was as far as her host’s etiquette went as he failed to introduce himself, or even have the courtesy to turn and face her. She took her chance to glance at her surroundings while unobserved, noting the high ceiling covered by interwoven ducting and the clean white furniture and furnishings marking this out as an office, carpeted by a lush green lawn. As the silence lengthened she demanded his name, irritated at his lack of communication and determined to provoke a response. He kicked his chair round and faced her.   
The man before her was a complete contrast to those she had met so far. The smart suits or dated tweeds were replaced with a bright patterned shirt, wine coloured tie and brown leather jacket. The mocking grins or desperate stares with bright, amused eyes framed with wiry black hair overflowing from under his hat. He lowered a cup of tea from his lips.  
“A friend, I hope,” he replied. Alice pursed her lips in annoyance as she realised he was evading her questions. She eyed him carefully, waiting for more.  
“I run the Tea shop,” he added as he got the message, although this didn’t help Alice much either, She continued to wait, seeing if there was any further information coming.  
Ratty, who had stood in deferential silence so far, seemed anxious to get on with the business in hand, grabbing for her arm and removing the greasy rag covering the strange mark on her arm.  
“See!” He held her forearm out clearly for Hatter to see.  
Hatter stared at the mark in shock, jumping out of his seat to have a better look, before he regained control and covered his surprise by walking to perch on the edge of his desk. Well, she was real, this oyster and it looked as if she had a real glow. But what was she doing here, alone and awake?  
“How did you escape from the Scarab?” and am I about to be inundated with suits? If the suits found her here they were unlikely to look kindly on him, no matter what connections he had.  
“The beetle thing?” she replied, her nose crinkling appealingly as she tried to figure out what he meant.  
“Mm,” he murmured, distracted by his inspection of her, from the tight boots and figure hugging dress to the damp hair framing her eyes, that continued to regard him warily.  
“I used my hair pin,” she told him as if that was the whole story. He considered her soaked clothes and jumped to a conclusion.   
“And fell!” he stated, mouth twitching at the corners as he struggled not to laugh.  
“As you can see, I'm drenched,” she confirmed in annoyance. Hatter continued to look her over as his mind considered this information. It was unlikely she had been missed to start with, so he had a little while to plan what to do with her. Turning her in was risky, the casino might be grateful, or they might take him in too. Taking her to the resistance might boost his standing with the ungrateful wretches, who always doubted him. It would need to be worth their while for them to take the risk, but what assets could an oyster have?  
Alice shifted uncomfortably as he continued his appraisal, suddenly very aware of her drenched dress and how it clung to her. She found the silence unnerving and the continued lack of answers frustrating. Jack was detained and she needed to help him.   
“This place, where… what is it?” she demanded, lifting her eyes to the heavens, looking for some explanation for the inexplicable events of the day  
“Oh! Wonderland,” was his ridiculous reply. Did he think Alice was a fool?  
“That’s a story in a kid’s book!” Alice scoffed.  
“Does this look like a kid’s book to you?” he asked, eyeing her seriously. She stopped short, his gentle scorn surprising her. As she reflected on her day she had to admit the reality of this place, but Wonderland? Really?   
“It's changed a lot since then,” Hatter told her, as he watched the warring emotions crossing her face. He needed to get a closer look, authenticate the glow and size up her value, what could make a resistance trade worthwhile. He picked up a magnifying glass off his desk and began to close the distance between them.  
“You oysters don't know how to find us, so you tell yourselves we don't exist. And quite frankly we'd like to keep it that way!” As he reached her, he picked up her arm and checked the glow, rubbing firmly against it. He wouldn’t put it past Ratty to try and pull a fast one, but he wasn’t surprised to find it was real, the girl seemed genuinely confused.  
“Why am I an Oyster? Because of this?” she asked, rubbing at the glow in frustration, just as he had done a few moments earlier. Her distress pricked his conscience and Hatter found himself trying to ease her worries with information. He explained that the green glow was a brand the suits used to identify those brought through the glass for their precious pearls.  
“What do you mean pearls?” she probed, the skin on her brow puckering as she frowned in confusion.   
Before she could get anymore answers Ratty, who had been listening to the exchange, proudly announced to Hatter, “But she's Alice.” Turning earnestly to Alice he urged her, “Tell him who you are.”   
He looked expectantly at Alice, before turning to smile at Hatter, his shoulders squaring and chest puffing out in pride at his find. A smug grin flashed across his face as he met Hatters gaze following this revelation of his trump card.  
Hatter supressed his surprise at the revelation, focusing on Alice’s reaction, she seemed nonplussed.  
“Wow.” said he said, clearly unimpressed. “Really!”   
Alice felt uncomfortable prickles on her skin as he walked around her, examining her as if she were an exhibit in a museum.   
“Ooooh!” he mocked, grinning first at Alice and then at her guide.   
Alice eyed him with clear distrust and growing annoyance. To confirm his suspicions that she had no idea what Ratty meant he told her, “Ratty here thinks you're Alice - of legend,” studying her closely for any reaction.  
“Who?” She asked blankly. Instead of taking Ratty down a peg or two, Hatter wonderingly found himself recounting the history of the last revolution.   
“The last time a girl called Alice came here from your world she brought down the whole house of cards.” he told her as he circled her. “Oh yeah, made quite an impression.”  
Why did he keep volunteering information to her, she was for trade, the less she knew the better. He resumed his consideration of Ratty’s claim. Typical that he automatically assumed it was the same girl, despite the fact that it couldn’t be.   
“It was a hundred and fifty years ago. It can't be the same girl, Oysters don't even live that long!”  
“I still want a good price,” grumbled Ratty, much to Alice's annoyance.  
Alice bridled as she recognised the implication of his words. How dare they treat her like this?  
“Now wait a minute, I'm not for sale!” she protested, only to be silenced by her host, or maybe purchaser was a better description. He didn't even bother to look at her, just held out his silencing finger in her direction as he held Ratty’s gaze. Alice glared to no effect as they continued to ignore her in their silent assessment of one another.   
Hatter seemed to reach a decision, swung around and walked away to a shelf of bottles, like those she had seen in the teashop. Ratty seemed to think he had won the stare contest as he scurried eagerly behind, until he was frozen by a commanding “Not on the grass!” from Hatter. He waited, shuffling from foot to foot, bouncing lightly in anticipation, like a child on Christmas morning.  
As Alice followed Hatter’s movements she noticed the bottles each contained a small amount of coloured liquid, reds, blues, greens and yellows. She wondered if they had names written on like the others and, if so, what names.  
Hatter considered the selection before him and chose one bottle, before reconsidering. He reached for another and turned to face Ratty.   
“Here we are. Mm...” He displayed the bottle to Ratty, beginning his sales patter while Alice looked on.  
“Pink nectar, filled with the thrill of human excitement.” That gave Alice a jolt, what did he mean? How could the bottle contain excitement? It made no sense. Was this why people were being abducted and brought here?  
“Fifty oysters were drained of every last drop of hullaballoo, so that you, Ratty, can taste what it feels like to win just once.” Ratty's eyes hadn't left the bottle since it had been brought out. As it came within reach he tried to take it, but the bottle was snatched back.   
“Warning! Don't take it on an empty stomach and only one tiny little drop at a time, or the experience might burst your shrivelled-up little heart! Got it?”  
“Got it!” confirmed Ratty, before finally taking the bottle and hurrying away.  
Alice considered the man who had just bought her as he sniffed the hand Ratty had held. She wanted some answers and one thing in particular had caught her attention. “Oysters were drained? What do you mean, drained?” she demanded, it couldn’t be good. How could he talk about people being caught and drained with so little care, as if they were cattle?  
For the first time since she entered the room Hatter felt uncomfortable, she was smart, not missing a thing. His face froze for a second before he turned and changed the subject, “Ratty tells me you're looking for someone?”  
Alice leapt at the opening; at last someone was listening to her. Judging by the way Ratty had brought her straight here this man was someone who was used to finding solutions so maybe he could help. She wasn’t losing Jack the way she had lost her father, this time she was old enough to do something about it!  
“His name is Jack Chase. He was taken by a man with a white rabbit on his lapel.” Alice followed Hatter as he retreated to the desk and resumed sipping his tea.  
“I see.” was the only reply she received, while he considered this information. This was good, she wanted something and it gave him a bargaining chip. It was time to convince her of his ability to help with a little information. “The white rabbit is an organisation controlled by the suits. They travel back and forth through the looking glass and vanish people from your world to ours.”  
“Why?” Alice asked warily, sure she wasn’t going to like the answer.  
“To use. In the Casino,” Hatter answered carelessly, stiffening as he heard his own words and remembered that this wasn’t one of his usual customers and she had a habit of picking up his slips of the tongue. Sure enough.  
“Use?” Vanished? Drained?   
He choked on his tea and placed it back on the table as he turned to reassure her, “Did I say used? Slip of the tongue, they're fine.” When he saw this wasn't enough he added, “You know, they keep them alive, and moderately happy.”   
She might have been slightly more reassured if it weren't for the look on his face. She had to get to Jack; everything she found out seemed to suggest he could be in real trouble, either facing charges or being used in some way.  
“How do I get to this Casino?”  
“That’s the thing. You don't,” Hatter told her, “Way too dangerous!” If Jack was an oyster he was probably already gone, out on the gaming floor, a doped up drone producing nectar for processing. Better that she forgot the idea of the casino, but he needed her to think he could help her find this friend. He carefully placed his tea down and rose from his chair. Pacing back towards her he added, “But, I know some people, who know some, well, other people, if you know what I mean? It's one of the privileges of running a teashop.”  
Alice started as he pronounced the last word right in front of her face. “Lighten up!” he admonished her when she continued to stare at him. Noting her continuing scepticism Hatter contemplated ways to gain her trust. He turned away as a new thought struck him and he rushed over to a clear wardrobe, pulling out a long purple jacket made of velvet and waving it towards her as he returned across the grass.   
“Dada! Mm… You should wear this. It'll cover the glow and stop you from catching a cold.”   
He held it out proudly, reminding Alice forcefully of the way he had presented the excitement to Ratty. She examined the jacket closely, while considering what to say. This man had just bought her. He talked about vanishing people to use and drain. What kind of person was he, what did he want in return for buying her and how could she get him to help her find Jack?   
“I have a little money, but I understand you don't use that here?” she offered despondently.  
“Pieces of paper? Pointless!” he mocked gently.  
“So why would you help me?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them; he would want something she was sure. Better to find out now than later.  
“Do I need a reason to help a pretty girl in a very wet dress?” he asked from close behind her, making her feel uncomfortable. And he wasn't fooling her either, she turned to face him and let her expression tell him the answer.   
“Oh! I see!” his face hardened. “You don't trust me! Fine!” He slammed the dress down before adding, “I am genuinely hurt.” He was alarmed at the rush of emotion he felt, she knew nothing about him, but she had already judged him. He desperately wanted to regain her good opinion.  
“Do you know why they call me Hatter?” he asked.  
His name! She looked at him and, unthinkingly, gave the first reply that came to mind, “Because you wear a hat?”  
He paused for a minute, nonplussed. “No! Because I'm always there when they pass the hat.” Hatter paused to see if she believed him, looking her in the eye to try and convince her of his sincerity.  
“So to speak. Philanthropy! Generosity! Call it what you will!” He warmed to his theme, “It's who I am. And right now, looking at you there, there's nothing I want more than to help you find…..” He looked at Alice helplessly.  
“Jack?”  
“Jack.” he confirmed. “And return you both to your charming world of children's stories.”  
“I don't believe you.”  
Well, that hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped. Fine, time for a few home truths for the friendless oyster.  
“I know what you're thinking.” he stated his face becoming stern. “If I'm the frying pan, then that out there is the fire! I'll be square with you. I know people who like to help your kind. And if every once in a while if I scratch their back…” he paused and raised his eyebrows at her.  
“They'll scratch yours.” Alice finished for him. This sounded more likely, he was looking for a favour from someone else for helping her.  
“That's right, lot of scratching”, he grinned at her, whether to get her to smile, or out of relief, she couldn’t tell. She looked him in the eye, she still wasn't sure she could trust him, but this sounded more realistic. And if these other people helped people like her, oysters (awful word), they might help Jack too. She walked over and started to put the jacket on.   
Hatter grinned and turned away, knowing he had won the argument, for now. They had lingered long enough; time to move her on before the suits came asking questions.   
Alice was still fastening the jacket and wondering, what next, when Hatter opened a side door and admonished her “Do try to keep up!” What? He wanted to leave now? Was she ever going to get five minutes to take this in?


	13. On the spot.

Carpenter stalked through the basement levels, feet pounding on the cold hard floor, co-workers hurriedly clearing a path. He glanced around, automatically aware that all was as it should be in his domain. Technicians moved calmly from bench to bench, checking the distillation of the bright coloured emotions. From each workstation long transparent tubes rose to the ceiling, carrying the miniscule drops from the casino.

He continued on hurriedly, bursting through the sterile plastic sheeting into the space beyond. Here more staff serenely completed their tasks, measuring chemicals in glass cylinders or on delicate balances. Others were monitoring the temperatures of the bubbling mixtures, timing the reactions needed to produce the anaesthetic sprays that had been his first triumph and secured his position here in the casino. But it was never enough, they always wanted more and now it was resurrection.

He reached the end of the room, pushing through another plastic curtain to reach his cold room. He crossed the stark space to a gurney in the middle and lifted the sheet. Glancing at the decapitated assassin, still clothed in his cheap black suit and white polo shirt, he pondered how exactly he was supposed to bring him back? Replacing limbs, organs? Yes he had made great strides in recent years, but it was a big leap to replace a brain. He sighed deeply, lips vibrating nosily as the air left his lungs. He turned and walked over to his work bench to think. Flipping through his notebook he refreshed his memory on his work so far.

Processing the data, he gradually found himself caught up in the puzzle. The subject had lost most of his head, but the blow that had ended his life hadn’t taken all his brain with it. It was possible memory and learning had been retained, but how to tap into and restart it. As he considered the options he found himself humming, the quiet conjecture cooling his ire and lessening the resentment he felt towards the never ending demands. The slap and slide of plastic broke his train of thought and he glanced up to see his friend and colleague, Walrus, closing the distance to his side.

“So? Can we do it?” he asked without preamble. “That club will be back in an hour.”

“Can you tell me how to grow a head in an hour?” he replied mockingly.

Walrus gave a quick tight smile, his head twitching to the side momentarily in sympathy.

“Come on, break it down…” he encouraged. He had never seen anyone better than Carpenter when faced with a biological puzzle.

“Well... in theory… the brain stem could retain his knowledge, it just needs a processor.” Carpenter spoke haltingly, taking his time as he considered the problem, voicing his thoughts as they arose.

“Like the new luminescent cubes you were working on last week, for data storage?” was the eager response.

“Mm… Yes, that might work,” Carpenter murmured, slowly losing his focus on his colleague and becoming immersed in his   
work.

Walrus didn’t wait for more, spotting the signs of progress from his long experience of working with this brilliant man. He hurriedly left to root around for the discarded prototypes of last week’s project, no doubt shoved hurriedly into a drawer. It was the fate of so many projects when the fascination of a new problem had faded and the tedium of developing the technology further set it. That step was Walrus’ province; he was the 99% perspiration to Carpenter’s 1% inspiration.

Carpenter didn’t even notice his absence, too engrossed in his thoughts, still talking to himself.

“Need to reconnect all the neurons to new pathways…fiddly job...cardiac paddles to kick start...”

Absentmindedly his hand shot out and flicked the radio on. He didn’t hear the music, but it drowned out the silence that stopped him thinking.

“Still need a head…in an hour…”

With his mind and ears engaged his stomach made its own insistent demand, his hand once again shot out, to the biscuit barrel in front of him. He turned to focus on his hand, choosing carefully and his eyes widened as he noticed what was in front of him.

“Yes…that might work!” he pondered, heart rate steadily increasing as he considered his ideas. He turned on his heal and marched back to the gurney to begin work.

OoO

Dormouse snuffled, her head bent to her desk, eyes tight shut and hidden from view by arms curled languidly about her podium. To casual observers she was, yet again, sleeping away her working hours. The lethargic display masked the frenzied thoughts of her sharp mind. One of the many small ways she masked her true purpose, hidden behind her shuffling, nervous and absentminded persona. She was bungling, someone who couldn’t be considered a threat.

As a cover it worked perfectly, no one suspected how deeply involved in the resistance she was. Her days spent at the teashop were profitable, allowing her to track movements of goods and people; both casino employees and city folk frequented the trade floor or came to bargain with Hatter. None took any notice of the sleeping heap at the head of the room. It was an ideal place for information to be dropped and collected.

Hidden securely in her pocket was the latest news from agents in the casino, retrieved from the new emotion bottle delivery. It was a risk; any of the intermediaries who handled the bottle could inadvertently have found the small coded sheet. News from Jack was too important to wait until the normal exchange, so it was worth the hazard. Now all she needed to do was get the sheet out to the safe house for decoding.

She rolled and stretched her shoulders, shifting her arms slightly. If anyone had looked up it would seem as if she simply shifted in her sleep. The small movement allowed her to open her eyes to slits and observe the room. She glanced about, trying to spot the stranger who had been in the room a few moments ago. Movement towards the door caught her eye, the dishevelled figure of Ratty leaving in haste, no sign of his companion. The girl was still with Hatter. That in itself made her interesting to Dormouse, but in addition she seemed alien, out of place. Who was she and what did she want?

Something was going on, she could feel it. Although the coup plans hadn’t played out something may yet come from it. The casino was unsettled, the suits upset. If they were worried that could only be good for the resistance. They needed to take advantage of the situation. Prompting action would be difficult in the light of recent failures, but dithering wouldn’t change the status quo.

She shifted once more, bringing her arms under her head to cushion them as she slept, her eye line directed at Hatter’s office. She had nothing to do but wait and watch until the end of the day.

OoO

Hatter stood waiting impatiently, wondering how long it took to climb down a ladder? As Alice neared the bottom he reached up, grasping her tightly around the waist. Feeling the support Alice twisted and jumped the last few rungs to the sidewalk, lifting her eyes to his. He felt an unexpected tingle jolt through his hands, the cold of her damp dress followed by the warmth of her body underneath, and let go, turning to lead her on.

Her gasp drew him back round. Alice was gripping the ladder tightly eyeing the drop in terror.

“What’s up?” he asked her in confusion, eager to be gone.

“I have a thing about heights,” Alice told him.

His brow creased as he considered this, what did she mean? Frightened of heights? He’d never heard of anyone scared of heights. She was clearly frozen though, and they needed to get moving.

He turned to face her again. “Alice?”

She took no notice of him, her gaze still riveted to the drop. He wasn’t sure she had heard him.

“Alice,” he tried again, more firmly. “Look at me”.

This time she glanced up and he held her gaze. He held out his hand for her to take, allowing his gaze to reassure her. After a moment’s hesitation he saw her tension lessen, the stiffness leaving her shoulders. She released one hand from the rungs and grasped his, the trust that had been missing from her eyes in his office suddenly appearing. He felt a rush of warmth as he recognised it. It felt so good to be trusted, without someone looking for the angle in the situation.

Slowly he paced backwards, leading her to the wider sidewalk further down the building, never taking his eyes from hers. He halted and for a moment they stood, locked into their shared gaze. Hatter found he didn’t want to look away or lose contact with her. Alice made no move to break the connection either. As the moment stretched it became uncomfortable and they both released their grip, stepping away and looking aside. Each lost in their thoughts; they stood for a moment more before Hatter took the lead once more.

“Come on, this way.”


	14. On the move

Hatter turned, and without waiting to see if Alice was following, stalked off through the city. He took care to keep to the back routes, out of sight of the few city dwellers that would be about. Most folk preferred to find internal routes as far as possible, leaving themselves exposed for as little time as possible. Numerous short cuts and tunnel like highways had developed, become smooth and well-trodden like the well-used burrow of a mole, hiding from the light.  
As he walked Hatter mused about what had happened and the strange oyster that had walked into his office. It was a long time since anyone had looked into his eyes with such trust, even for an unguarded moment. Not since she had abandoned him for the lure of the casino. Just once, since he found himself out on his own had he let his guard down. Although, he should have known better than to trust that affection would last. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. Alice was a commodity, no point in getting attached, she would be gone soon.  
As he reached the end of the current building he paused, checking behind to see Alice was keeping up. He gave the briefest of smiles, the warmth never quite reaching his eyes, before turning to survey the street beyond the corner.  
He felt a slight brush across his back as Alice moved behind him to look too and his arm shot out automatically to keep her sheltered. In the distance he could see two figures retreating into the haze, distinctive clothing marking them out clearly, even at this distance.  
“Suits,” he murmured to Alice. He edged back into the lee of the building, shepherding Alice with his outstretched arm. As he glanced at her he noticed a frown clouding her face as she watched them.  
“Going where?” Alice asked.  
She waited, but Hatter chose to ignore her yet again.  
“The casino?” she hazarded.  
“Forget it! Casino’s not in the city,” he admonished her, determined to wipe out all thoughts of heading off on her own. “The Looking Glass is here, that’s what’s going to get you home.”  
She observed him closely as she stated, “I need to find Jack first.”  
Hatter held her gaze, poker face in place as he dismissed her chances of finding her friend, he was long gone and her best chance was to leave as soon as she could. No doubt, once the facts were made clear she would readily save herself, self-preservation always won in his experience. But that task would fall to Dodo, not him; he just needed to play her along for now. Get her to cooperate.  
“You can’t just barge into the casino demanding they let him go you know. They’ll put you on the floor and then you’re no use to anyone, least of all this Jack,” he replied scathingly  
“So how do we get him out?” she demanded hotly, stepping back and pulling him round to face her fully.  
“My contacts…,” Hatter hesitated, unsure what to say. He sighed before finding himself quietly confiding, “They loathe the teas and oyster catches. They’ll help.” Alice listened, that habitual frown creasing her brow once more as she was reminded of her earlier unanswered questions.  
“What’s wrong with the teas? Is this about what you said earlier, oysters – you mean people like me right? Being drained?” Alice challenged, her voice getting louder and more forceful.  
Hatter retreated from her, his back pressing against the wall of the building as he raised his hands in a recognisable gesture of conciliation.  
“Yeah, okay, the teas come from the oysters. They’re emotions, extracted and strengthened,” he confirmed.  
“And you sell them? To people?” she stated incredulously. “Why? Don’t you think about where they come from?”  
“Look!” Hatter interrupted defensively, “I have to make a living. In case you hadn’t noticed Wonderland isn’t exactly all that warm and cosy. The casino supply the teas, I sell them and stay out of trouble with the suits.” He stopped and then added as an afterthought, “and I hadn’t met an oyster till you walked into my office,” his voice trailing off to a whisper.  
“And that makes it alright?” Alice censured. “What if it was your family or friends disappearing?” she challenged him scathingly, her eyes meeting his in fierce contest.  
“Hey! We’ve all lost people; Wonderland’s no safer for us. Why do you think Ratty didn’t want to hang around? Why does everyone avoid the suits? Why do you think people are so desperate to get hold of the teas? It’s not because this is such a lovely safe place!” Hatter stopped, shocked at the anger she had provoked in him. He scanned their surroundings, conscious that they were still exposed and in the open.  
Alice stood open-mouthed in surprise following his outburst, watching his actions mutely and gathering her thoughts. Hatter glanced back, rolling his shoulders and cricking his neck to ease the tension that had built up. He puffed out a long breath and tried to explain.  
“Alice…” he wondered where to begin, how to explain the nuances of life in the city. “The suits and Agent White work for the casino, they don’t run it,” Hatter paused, conscious that they needed to get moving.  
“So who does?” Alice asked, taking advantage of the opening.

Hatter smiled ruefully, knowing she wouldn’t let it go.

“We need to get out of the open. This way,” he led off once more, twisting sideways so she remained in his sight. “The Queen of Hearts is in control, she lives up at the casino, surrounded by her courtiers. You’ll never see her in the city.”

“And the suits work for her?” Alice asked as Hatter scanned along the street at yet another junction. He slipped through the gap left in a rusted gate and continued down the side street concealed behind the wall. He checked Alice had found her way before continuing.

“Yep! The suits keep the peace… and round up anyone who opposes the Queen.” He continued regretfully.

“Oppose her? Why?”  
“She’s not the rightful Queen; she took the throne by force. She uses the teas to control people, keep them in line and the suits are her muscle.”  
They reached the end of the room they were walking through and Alice spotted another derelict gate. Hatter peered through it before darting across a street bridge and down a narrow alley between two buildings. Alice gazed up, mesmerised by the immense height rising away, the sky a thin slither of light in the distance. She felt closed in and hurried to keep up with Hatter.  
“What if you don’t want to be part of it all? The teas, I mean?” Alice prompted Hatter.  
“The suits and the casino!” Hatter replied over his shoulder, not turning this time but scanning ahead, searching for something. “Or you hide, like the man we’re going to see.” He stopped and Alice had to stifle a groan when she spotted the ladder leading down through a hole in the floor. “Next bits a little tricky. Take care and watch me,” he instructed, before swinging himself onto the rungs and slowly sinking out of view.  
Alice took a deep breath and fixing her eye firmly on the wall in front of her she reached for the first rung.


	15. Mad March

A loud silence filled the audience chamber, proclaiming the peculiarity of the man in the centre of the room. Smart black shoes protruded from charcoal grey slacks with a matching jacket that covered a white polo necked shirt, but none of the other occupants of the room noticed this. All eyes were fixed on his head, or rather the place where his head had been. In place of flesh and bone set in features many had known and feared sat the twitching nose and long ears of a rabbit. One or two of the inhabitants gulped involuntarily, under the blank gaze of the Queen’s favourite assassin, frozen in the white porcelain of the biscuit barrel it had once been. The replacement seemed only to increase the menace of the man as he stood abnormally still. Their unease increased as lights, encased in crystals embedded in his brain and visible through the opening of the barrel, began to flash, complemented by a gentle whirr of processors. As they waited the head turned a hundred and eighty degrees, coming to rest once more facing the dais where the Queen sat watching. She rose, disconcerted by the alteration in his appearance.  
“What have you done to him?” she asked.  
The object of her concern took no notice. He was engrossed in the flashes of memory that were slowly relieving the dull grey tones of his experience since he had been woken moments before.  
He was aware something was different from the moment he had begun to see and hear; startled by the sudden sensation and awareness where before there had been none. Sight seemed to be flat, objects fazing in and out of focus like a camera and his eyes seemed beyond his control as his vision constantly scanned the area in front of him. Commands arrived directly in his brain without him hearing them. “Sit. Stand. Follow. Wait.”  
Only as he stood in front of those familiar doors did he begin to remember. Bright spots of knowing breaking the monotony of grey, each adding to his sense of self.  
A flash of a man, running, as they all did. His oldest enemy  
A feeling of satisfaction, knowing he had found his quarry. At long last.  
Calm certainty that he was on the right path. Today he would finish this.  
Following a fork in the path, after detecting a faint tang in the air. An unmistakable aroma.  
Crouching in anticipation as he spotted the lair and crept closer. Victory assured.  
The surprise as the branch swung towards him. Not possible!  
Incandescent rage flashed through him in realisation that he had been duped. He instinctively tried to grit his teeth, clenching his jaw. No relief came; he had no teeth or jaw to move. He had been outwitted and lost his head. Other memories of his earlier skirmishes gave more shape to is understanding as they arrived.  
As the doors swung open he walked forward, dismissing most of those present as unimportant. He stopped and sought out the power, turning to face the woman who clearly held sway. Automatic assessments told him she was no direct threat and he discounted her, returning to his own musings.  
He needed to plan. His adversary thought he had won and this gave him the advantage. It was vital he get out of here as soon as possible and trace his double dealing foe, but for the moment he was unsure of himself and his instincts. He needed time to investigate his own abilities.  
His train of thought was broken as a loud voice intruded.  
“Mad March, how are you today?” she enunciated carefully.  
Yes, that was him, but who did she think she was? Talking to him as if he was incapacitated!  
“Piss off you cow!” His voice was flat, electronic, lacking even the small inflection it had once held.  
To his surprise she laughed, seemingly pleased by his response. The self-satisfied sound sparked another flash of memory, the Queen! His employer. But he had always been a favourite, could follow his own path. He watched as she rubbed her hands together in glee and leaned forward conspiratorially.  
“Now then Marchy, I need you to find someone. A girl,” she told him, eyes sparkling in predatory anticipation.  
“Not interested!”  
What was she thinking? He had a traitor to track, revenge to take. That merchant had the gall to work openly in the teashops, thinking he wouldn’t recognise him? On top of that, despite his involvement in the teas he no doubt supplied   
the resistance. He had shown his sentimental nature long ago. Did he really think that March wouldn’t find him?  
His train of thought was broken as he became aware of the end of the Queens reply.  
“… put him in the gaming room where the geeks can have fun with him.”  
He snapped his head to look her in the face as she sighed and shrugged her shoulders, feigning regret. So she was more of   
a threat than he had anticipated, he was impressed and inwardly raised his eyebrows.  
“I’m devastated truly.” Belatedly his brain reminded him of the manipulative and ruthless nature of the woman before him as she added unrelentingly, “Take him away.”  
He watched her turn and process back to her throne in admiration; she held the winning hand, for now.  
“Okay, okay. Tell me about this broad,” he demanded as two employees stepped forward to remove him. No reason why he couldn’t combine two hunts in one.  
The Queen’s steely eyes fixed on him in calculation, before she switched once more to sweetness and light.  
“Excellent.” She returned to her throne and looked to her husband, “Winston?” she prompted.  
“She’s an oyster, escaped from the latest catch,” the King expanded for her.  
“Escaped?... That’s careless… who?” March stated, curiously. He might have a chance of reacquaint himself with his work before heading out on this search.  
The King shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his wife. A hand reached up to the back of his neck and he scratched at his neck awkwardly as he thought of his friend’s fate.  
“Dealt with,” he answered flatly. Some of the courtiers looked down, pretending to be ignorant of his meaning.  
“She’s in the city. Not been found yet, someone must be hiding her,” he rushed on, not wanting to dwell on the news.  
March allowed himself a little grin, unseen on his unmoving face. He knew just where to start!


	16. 15 the library

Gryphon drifted silently along the dark corridor framed by the tall stacks of books, dim flickers from the scattered candles gave the only light, emphasising the dark pools of shadows. A quiet murmur followed his progress as the inhabitants of this isolated world noted his passage through, his supply runs were regular and welcome. As he moved on the shuffling of feet told him people were setting out in search of the goods he had left with those in charge. No one impeded his progress; they all knew where he was headed before he had to leave again.

He rounded a corner and found himself facing a dead end, a square room bounded by the tall stacks of books, enclosed on old dusty shelves. The space was sparsely furnished; a lamp lit a table holding a few small possessions, no seats, just a few cushions and a stuffed mattress providing resting places. A frail old man was seated on one of the cushions, his hand resting on the pale arm of a young girl who lay on the mattress, a sickly sheen of sweat coating her brow.

The old man looked up and nodded an acknowledgement. Gryphon returned the silent greeting as he strode quickly to the mattress and sank to his knees.

“Kat?” he called gently, hoping to rouse her without shocking her. He placed a hand on her free arm and squeezed gently, before rubbing her arm softly, easing her out of her slumber. The young girl’s shoulders heaved as she inhaled deeply. As she released the breath her eyes blinked rapidly, as she came to, and adjusted to the dim light around her. She smiled in pleasure as she spotted her brother.

“Gryph!” she exhaled. He would have missed it if he hadn’t been so close and his heart sank as he realised she was no better than his last visit. He made himself grin cheerfully at her.

“Got you something!”

“What? Where is it?” she asked him eagerly, struggling onto her elbows and trying to look around him. Gryphon slipped a hand into his pocket and took out the two small packets he had hidden there on his way in.

“Cake! Chocolate!” he told her, offering her one of the packets.

Her eyes lit up as she sat up fully and reached for the rare treat, for a moment in the flickering flames she appeared well, the parody of a healthy glow illuminating her skin.

“Not forgotten you either Grandad,” he added turning to the old man, “Cheese, blue!”

“Ah, you’re a good lad,” he exclaimed, before unwrapping his gift and beginning to consume it. They lapsed into silence as they ate and Gryphon watched them closely, his sister’s chest heaved as she struggled to draw in air, not helped by the stuffy, stale atmosphere here in the great library. His Grandad seemed even more skeletal and for a moment he wondered which of the two would last longer. He thought bitterly of the hospital and medicines available in the city for those favoured by the casino and knew he couldn’t risk taking either of them there.

“So, what’s the news?” Kat asked as she took a pause between bites and Gryphon found himself the focus of two pairs of eyes. He began to softly retell his latest adventures, a prickle down his spine informing him that others were joining them, eager for any news of the life in the city, however small. The desperation for familiar news now they were irrevocably separated from it palpable in the air.

OoO

Alice bumped into the solid wall of Hatters back as he came to a sudden halt, her breath rushing out in a big gasp. He turned and rolled his eyes at her.

“Watch out!” he admonished her, rolling his eyes and grinning at her discomfort. She felt her face colouring, heat gathering in her cheeks.

“Give me some warning next time,” she retorted.

Hatter didn’t bother to reply, enjoying her embarrassment, instead he turned to the small door in the wall next to him and knocked.

“I’m returning a library book. It’s a work of Edwin and Morcar,” he began as a small hatch slid open at eye level. All   
Alice could see was a mouth surrounded by the short white bristles of a moustache and beard.

“How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail?” the disembodied mouth enquired. Hatter huffed with irritation before responding in an exasperated tone

“He pours the water of the Nile on every golden scale.”

This response did the trick as the door swung open and Hatter ushered Alice quickly inside.

“Hello Duck,” he greeted the bearded guardian of the door although he received no reply.

Alice looked around, finding herself in a small dark corridor. The man in front of her was up wrapped up in scarf, gloves and coat, reminding her forcefully of a homeless man who sat outside her apartment, trying to keep warm with few resources to do so. He did no more than glance at her, then turned to Hatter, inclined his head and turned to hurry down the corridor. Hatter raised his eyes as he too caught Alice’s eye, before following on.

It was dark in the corridor and Alice had to concentrate on the floor in front of her, every so often objects were piled in the way and if she wasn’t careful she would bump into them. She peered curiously at them as she hurried passed, surprised to see that most of them were books. She caught a few of the titles, history, law, science and morality seemed to make up the bulk of the material. They began to pass open doors leading into rooms, although what they once had been or their size remained a mystery as these too were stuffed with books, piled high around narrow aisles.

Every so often a lantern on the wall provided a pool of light, difficult to see beyond. As they passed the first side junction they had seen they stepped through one of these to find Duck had turned and now had a gun trained on them. Hatter stopped abruptly and Alice once more careered into the back of him. She peered over his shoulder to see what the holdup was and instinctively stepped back, edging away from this new threat. An audible click sounded from behind her and she and Hatter both spun around to see a newcomer also training a gun on them, she must have been hidden round the corner.

Alice backed towards Hatter away from this new threat, raising her hands in surrender. She looked at him, worry etched on her face. Hatter merely sighed tiredly. This was clearly nothing unusual, even if he blatantly thought it unnecessary.

“Why don’t you just put these things away,” he suggested, turning sideways and backing towards the passage wall, keeping both the guns in sight and Alice slightly behind him.

“Come on, you know me well enough, Owl,” he continued to cajole her.

“We have our orders,” came the matter of fact response from Duck.

Their new guard did not seem quite so relaxed, she gestured with her gun, backing them into an alcove.

“Keep that right hand where I can see it,” she instructed Hatter, who raised his hands this time in an attempt to pacify her.

“It’s just flesh and blood,” he added.

“Yeah, right! We’ve all seen what you can do with that sledgehammer,” Owl scoffed

Alice looked at Hatter in confusion, what on earth did this strange woman mean? Hatter hadn’t shown any hint of being threatening or dangerous since she had met him, yet it was clear both of their guards were extremely nervous of him. And his hand.

On the other hand it was clear that Hatter was simply becoming irritated by the two.

“Did you like the box of comfits I brought you last week?” he demanded.

Duck looked a little deflated.

“They’re all gone,” he said disconsolately.

“If you don’t treat me with a little respect you won’t get another crumb,” Hatter told him a hard note creeping into his voice.

The two guards wilted visibly, the threat hitting home to Alice’s surprise.

“Sorry Hatter, everyone’s a little jumpy,” Owl apologised. She lowered her gun and took the lead down the corridor.

Alice noticed that although Duck followed suit, he remained behind them, acting as an escort.

“Everyone’s always a little jumpy,” Hatter grumbled as he followed.

Glancing ahead Alice noticed that the corridor was coming to an end, a door leading to a wall of books stacked beyond head height. Her brow wrinkled in confusion, where could they go from here. As they reached the doorway Alice gasped, the wall of books extended in either direction as far as she could see. She looked up the stacks in front of her and realised the ceiling was several stories above her head, a Victorian skylight doing little to let natural light reach the depths she stood at.

“What is this place?” she asked in wonder, continuing to stare above her. The walls above her and to the sides appeared to be bordered by a gallery if the elaborate balustrade was any clue. The room must be vast, although it was obscured by the books.

“The great library or at least it used to be,” Hatter told her quietly.

“Used to be?” she prompted.

“Before the Queen,” was the quiet reply.

Alice fell silent, thinking about what Hatter had told her, in bits and pieces, since she had first walked into his office. Owl took her silence as a prompt and started moving down the corridors made by the books. The corridors zigzagged backwards and forwards, turning back on themselves, meeting crossroads and opening into makeshift rooms.

Alice soon lost all sense of direction and hurried to keep up. The hall was packed, not just with books, but with people. They were slumped in small groups along the corridors, stood chatting at crossroads or inhabiting the makeshift rooms, reminding Alice of neighbours in an apartment complex.

There all homely comparisons ended. These people spoke in hushed tones and shrank out of her way, seemingly nervous of her. They were clothed in threadbare and shabby items that didn’t match or, in many cases, fit. All were bundled up against the cool temperature, the size of the hall snatching away any warmth provided by the mass of humanity packed close together. In some of the rooms family groups huddled together around a brazier, hands held out to the meagre warmth. There was little in the way of furniture or possessions visible, those she did see were clearly treasured and guarded.

Lost in her observations she failed to notice that Owl and Hatter had slowed and then stopped. She found herself walking into him yet again.

“I’m beginning to think you’re doing that on purpose,” he told her, turning to treat her to his teasing smile. His grin grew wider as she flushed; he raised his eyebrows and treated her to a twinkle of his eyes, increasing her discomfort.

“What’s the hold up?” she asked hurriedly.

“Not sure,” Hatter replied, glancing up the corridor. They were approaching yet another crossroads, only this time the whole area was crammed with people. Owl was forcing her way through them to see what the holdup was.

Duck followed, turning to say, “Stay there!” before moving off.

Hatter looked at Alice and shrugged his shoulders with a wry grin. Looking around Alice noticed the quiet desperation in the air; more people were arriving to join the crowd.

“Who are all these people?”

“Undesirables. Those who got in the Queens way, or didn’t want to be part of her system. Some…,”Hatter paused and huffed out a deep breath, “well who knows? They just found themselves on the hit list.”

“They’re fugitives?” she asked incredulously, eyes widening to saucers. “Hiding in the library,” she added confusion clear in her voice.

“Safest place.”

When this clearly didn’t help Hatter turned to face her, took her arm and pulled her gently to the side, away from the crowd of people. Alice’s questions had not gone unnoticed and one or two people were giving her worried looks. He continued his explanation in a whisper, hoping she had the sense to do the same.

“The Queen didn’t just take power with brute force, she’s clever too. She manipulates people, exposes their weaknesses and uses them against them. She keeps people off balance.”

“But what’s that got to with a library? How does that make this a safe place?” Alice interrupted him.

“If you’ll let me finish?” Hatter stopped and waited till she nodded in agreement before continuing.

“First thing she did was make all learning illegal, only her advisors could study the old knowledge. Most of the stuff here was carted up and taken to the casino. Then she went after those with the knowledge and respect to oppose her. Beheaded some, others she sent so far over the edge they did the job for her…,” Hatters voice tailed off into nothing, eyes unfocused as he became lost in his thoughts.

“Hatter!” Alice called softly, raising her hand to his arm and shaking him gently. He started, looked at her and gathered his thoughts before continuing with no explanation of his inattention.

“Some got lucky and managed to get away, others saved books and artefacts from before and hid them away. Over time this place was forgotten about, the old entrance way blocked and built over. First people used it to hide stuff, and then as more people went into hiding they moved in too.”

Alice looked at those around her in dismay.

“All of them? All of them are hunted?” she murmured a mix of horror and pity colouring the words.

“Why do people allow it?” she asked

“Fear?” Hatter suggested, “And don’t forget the teas, instant gratification and the pursuit of a quick fix. Those living here in the city live in fear of being next on the hit list, the teas help make life bearable for them, provide an escape. As long as the supply keeps up they keep taking the easy option,” He expanded.

“And still you sell them?” Alice asked incredulously, “Why?”

“I’ve got to get by somehow,” Hatter retorted defensively. “And I wouldn’t be much use to these people if I didn’t. As it is I do what I can to help.”

Alice glanced at him quizzically, wondering what he could possible do to help these people.

“Supplies!” he told her gesturing at people who were now hurrying away from the crowd, tucking small parcels into coats and jackets, hiding them from view. None seemed to have got much she noted. She still wasn’t sure what to make of Hatter, he kept surprising her. But if he helped those opposed to the Queen then surely he would help her. Except…

“And how are they supposed to help me find Jack if they can’t help themselves?” she hissed, slightly ashamed that this was still her first priority, despite what she had seen.

“They can’t!”

Alice started at his words.

“But the man in charge can!” he finished.

He glanced round and saw that the once crowded junction had cleared, Owl beckoned impatiently.

“Not far now,” he told Alice as he turned to follow, Duck falling in behind them once more.

OoO

Gryphon gently placed Kat’s hand back on the mattress and lifted the blankets to cover it.

“She’s asleep,” he called over to his Grandad. He looked up from the small book he was leafing through.

“Good she could use the rest, coughing kept her up through the night!” he replied.

Gryphon sighed, his gaze fixed on his sister. He felt helpless. Despite all he did in the city to help the resistance he couldn’t help his own family. His silent contemplation was interrupted by the shuffling return of his aunt.

“Got our share!” she said before spotting him. “Gryph! Good lad, bringing it in, people were getting desperate,” she greeted him gruffly.

“Got a clear run! Something’s up and the suits are distracted!” he told her

“Still… good job, just don’t go getting sloppy!” Gryphon smiled tightly, it was always the same, she couldn’t help nagging at him.

She busied herself sorting the meagre allowance of food, setting some aside for the evening meal.

“Any news?” her nephew asked, “Anything I should pass on?”

“Nothing much, although I did just see Hatter!”

“Ha! Won’t get much joy today, not with a fresh run in; he’ll have to take his dealing elsewhere!” Gryphon chuckled. The merchant was happy to deal with them and keep the library supplied, but always for a price.


End file.
